The XX Factor: What women really think.

Down to Earth

He kept it down to earth tonight, which was the plan and a good idea—too much making people swoon would prove John McCain's charge that what Obama really is is a celebrity. And Obama nicely turned away the celebrity dig with a description of how he came from striving people who worked for everything they ever got. But he is at his most interesting, most compelling when he talks about himself, which is an unusual gift. When he switched to his policy plans, the specifics of what he wants to actually do for the country—he will make us energy independent in 10 years, for example—I just thought, "Sure you will." During the past couple of days, as both Bill Clinton and Joe Biden tried to talk about what Obama has done in his life to make us believe that he is ready to be president, you can't help but be struck by how little that adds up to. In the biggest speech to the country he has ever made, he didn't even try to list the accomplishments that make him qualified for the presidency. Yet, as you listen to him, strangely, that doesn't seem to matter.

"I Have a Plan"

On the 45th anniversary of Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" speech, Barack Obama answered back tonight with a simple, “I Have a Plan.” He’s distilled the trademark soaring rhetoric and big ideas into a handful of crisp one-liners: “The change we need doesn't come from Washington. Change comes to Washington.” And “America, we cannot turn back.” But beyond that, it was a policy speech: Wonk 101. A point-by-point refutation of the claim that the man is all empty talk. He uncorked the soaring bits only at the very end and seemingly only to remind us that if he wanted to he could do it again the next time.

Obama deflected all the Swift Boat slime with a flick of his wrist: “If you don't have any fresh ideas, then you use stale tactics to scare the voters. If you don't have a record to run on, then you paint your opponent as someone people should run from. ... You make a big election about small things.” He went and clocked McCain, who both “doesn’t get it” and forgets that “we all put our country first.” And as this convention sometimes seemed to gasp for air amid all the vast, monster egos, Obama was smart enough to stop talking about himself. “What the naysayers don't understand is that this election has never been about me. It's been about you.”

This was a strong speech and probably not an easy one for Obama, who might have preferred to light up the night sky like he did in ‘04. But for my money, he reminded everyone who’s ever been blown away by Barack Obama that being blown away by Barack Obama is not a one-, or two-, or three-shot deal. It’s something we could, and should maybe start to count on.  

Michelle Obama's Skewed View—or Noonan's?

I've got a bone to pick with Peggy Noonan's assessment of the Democratic Convention speeches in today's Wall Street Journal. Well, two. First, since when is Laura Bush "the most popular First Lady in modern American political history?" I know she polls well—as my husband pointed out, she reveals little, and what's not to like about things you don't know?—and I'm not sure how we're defining "modern American political history" exactly (when I Googled it, many references to the term seemed to encompass the latter half of the 20^th century, if not the whole thing), but I have hard time seeing her as any Jackie O.

Second, Noonan contends that in her speech, "In order to paint both her professional life and her husband's, and in order to communicate what she feels is his singular compassion, [Michelle Obama] had to paint an America that is darker, sadder, grimmer, than most Americans experience their country to be." Seriously? Give me a break. Peggy Noonan obviously has not been laid off recently.

I Expected Better: The Bill Clinton Story

Maybe, Emily, I didn't see Bill Clinton's speech the way you did because I actually expected him to do Barack Obama some good tonight. But then, that I expected better of him is an old, old story.

History was made in the Pepsi Center this evening, when William Jefferson Clinton arrived on schedule. I would not say that Michelle Obama twinkled at the sight of him ... and could not say whether Hillary did, because there was a lady waving a flag standing in front of her. But before too long, I was remembering why I voted for Ralph Nader in 1996. Back then, Clinton had the political capital to get a much better welfare reform bill but cared more about himself than all those down-on-their-luck Americans he was always biting his lip over. Tonight, he had the chance to make a much better pitch for Barack Obama. But again, instead, forever and what else is new, talked about how much better things were when he was president.

Who was it again that he was referring to when he said Obama "has the intelligence and curiosity every [emphasis his] successful president needs''? Or helpfully pointed out that he and Hillary have made Obama the candidate he is today: "The long primary tested and strengthened him.'' Oh, and not to worry because "he will continue and enhance our nation's commendable global leadership in an area in which I [emphasis his again] am deeply involved—the fight against AIDS, tuberculosis and malaria.''

Though every word he said about how much better off we were when he was president was true, of course, I hadn't realized that burnishing his legacy was the point of the exercise. He had the crowd going bananas before he ever opened his presidential beak, and one of the lines they loved best was, "People the world over have always been more impressed by the power of our example than by the example of our power.''  Woohoo, true again. But how that moves one voter to Obama I'm sure I don't know.

"America can do better'' than it has under Bush. "And Barack Obama will do better.'' Really? That is one weak offense, Bubba. And the old hound dog did not exactly rip John McCain's head off, either, going on and on about how his wife's former drinking buddy loves this country and sure suffered in Hanoi. The best I could give him would be a gentleman's "C''. But at the moment, I am too mad to manage it.

What's Good for the Goose is Good for the Gander

Bill, the original stickler for exact language, manages to give a roaring, inspiring endorsement of Obama without entirely selling out his wife: "Barack Obama is the man for this job."

[Emphasis mine. Just sayin'.] 

Bill's Night

Clinton Code Orange

The fire-bright shade of orange Hillary picked to wear tonight must lie directly across the color wheel from the particular shade of punched-up blue that flanked the DNC podium. The contrast couldn't have been sharper. And I thought Hillary couldn't have been sharper, in her presentation, in her poise, in her tribute video. She was great. She just wasn't great for Barack Obama.

Here's where I felt it: "Were you in it for me?" she asked her supporters. "Or were you in it for" the young Marine, the mother struggling to make ends meet, etc. Good, that justified the minutes she'd just spent on real-people stories. Then I waited for the turn, for her to say: Because this election isn't about me. Now, it's about Barack Obama. He will make your lives better in the ways I wanted to do and would have done. Because he is ready to lead the American people. He will take us where we need to go. And now you need to be in this election for him, and so for yourselves.

OK, I don't have a future as a speech writer. But that was the mark she should have hit harder and didn't, wasn't it? She got close for a second with, "before we keep going, we've got to get going, by electing Barack Obama!" That was the kind of line she was up there to deliver. There should have been more of them. By the end, the orange was starting to look red to me, as in Scarlet O'Hara red--the bright color you wear to the party you had to be brave to come to. Dahlia, you said that Michelle Obama was brave last night. I thought that Hillary was brave tonight. But not, also, giving enough to hand to her former opponent everything he may need.

First Ladylike

Au contraire, Emily: I think we should be mopping our brows with relief that Michelle Obama's speechwriters (or did she write it herself?) avoided the merest hint of sisterhood-is-powerful language or Hillary-identification in her speech. Sure, as a feminist it would have been satisfying to see her raise a fist in solidarity, but let's face it, this speech wasn't aimed at the likes of us. Her target, which she nailed with impressive deftness, was that vague, elusive and maddening clump of the electorate that still somehow finds Obama's wife too aggressive and scary and un-First Ladylike, what with the fist-bumping and the Harvard degree and the actual opinions on policy.

Watching her bat a thousand in every conventional First Lady category--for God's sake, she's beautiful, stylish, charming, poised, maternal and warm, leaving aside for the moment her obvious accomplishments and intellect -- I wanted to call up these waffling bozos in person and harass them. She's Jackie Kennedy with a working-class back story! What else do you want from the woman? Emily's remark about the speech's race subtext can't help but ring sadly true: If you don't like Michelle Obama after this speech, do you like any flavor of ice cream besides vanilla?

So That's What Brave Looks Like . . .

What I loved best about Michelle Obama's speech tonight was that it was fearless, but in a very different way from the fearlessness modeled by Hillary Clinton and Nancy Pelosi. Here is a woman with a degree from Harvard Law School, who could have talked about law and policy and poverty, and yet she talked about her kids, her husband, and her family. And she didn't do that merely to show us that smart women are soft and cuddly on the inside. She did what everyone else in this campaign is terrified to do: She risked looking sappy and credulous and optimistic when almost everyone has abandoned "hope" and "change" for coughing up hairballs of outrage. Every Democrat in America seems to be of the view that optimism is so totally last February; that now's the time to hunker down and panic real hard. Good for Michelle for reminding us that to "strive for the world as it should be" is still cool, and for being so passionate about that fact that she looked to be near tears. Good for her for speaking from the heart when everyone else seems to be speaking from the root cellar. And if that doesn't persuade you the woman is a warrior, let me just add that true bravery is letting your 7-year-old turn the first night of the Democratic Convention into open-mic night with the big screen and the party frock. Think any man alive would have done that? Me neither.   

Michelle's Marks

Michelle's master aim tonight: to knit herself to the American dream, the American story. How many times did she use those phrases? Her mother helped, with "I got to stay home with my kids," and her pursed proud mouth, listening in the crowd.  Her handsome brother did, too, with his tales of her playing the piano to get him downstairs before a big basketball game. And those gorgeous girls of hers, telling the image of their dad on a huge TV screen that their mom did good. (Primetime Family Reality TV: I imagined my boys up there, one of whom might have been tempted to imagine the crowd as a mosh pit and dive, and let out a sigh of relief for Michelle when they gave up the mike.) The message was that this is a beautiful family and yet a real family. The subtext: if you still don't like them, is it just because they're black?

Michelle's second aim was slightly less successful, I think: to stand up for women's rights and concerns and in so doing to stand in for Hillary. Invoking the 88th anniversary of women's suffrage was good. So was calling out HIllary by name as a kind of American hero. But this wasn't where the passion in the speech lay. That went into the lines about being a sister, wife, mother, and into Michelle's evocation of her father. Maybe that's just fine, because it's what more of the country is listening for. And certainly it was too much to ask Michelle to single-handedly head off the much-rumored irate Hillary supporters. But if I can quibble with a woman who pulled off electrifying sincerity in her big moment, I wanted one more moment in coded feminist-speak, for the other sisters.

Also in Slate: John Dickerson examined Michelle Obama's big moment.

Teddy's Season of Hope

In August of 1980, I watched Teddy Kennedy's convention speech from the basement of a Holy Cross retreat house in Colorado Springs, where a bunch of us who had just graduated from Notre Dame and had signed up to spend a service year working in inner city schools and neighborhoods and parishes across the country were getting together for a few days before heading off to our various assignments. Nothing against Jimmy Carter, but I doubt there was a single one of us who hadn't been pulling for Kennedy that year, and he spoke directly to us and made us cry but also filled us with hope:

And someday, long after this convention, long after the signs come down and the crowds stop cheering, and the bands stop playing, may it be said of our campaign that we kept the faith.

May it be said of our Party in 1980 that we found our faith again.

And may it be said of us, both in dark passages and in bright days, in the words of Tennyson that my brothers quoted and loved, and that have special meaning for me now:

I am a part of all that I have met
To [Tho] much is taken, much abides
That which we are, we are—

One equal temper of heroic hearts
Strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

For me, a few hours ago, this campaign came to an end.

For all those whose cares have been our concern, the work goes on, the cause endures, the hope still lives, and the dream shall never die.

Tonight, watching him walk and talk a little haltingly, and listening to him quote from that 1980 speech, how could anyone not be torn up and yet thrilled, too, all over again, that his work and ours really does go on. There he was, battling brain cancer and yet showing up, not quite steady on his feet but still passionate about universal health care, uncertain of his own future but still so confident in ours, truly passing the torch not just to Barack Obama, but to all of us: "I pledge I will be there next January,'' to vote for health care reform, he said. "For me, this is a season of hope .. the work begins anew, the hope rises again, and the dream lives on.''

Hillary Clinton Needs You To Behave

"If anything, the country shows every sign of yearning for Clintonism as a governing idea now as much as it ever has."

                                                           -- Mark Penn, today in Politico

So I guess the Politico called Mark Penn and said hey, cowboy, we've got some rope over here that would look real good around your neck if you're up for one of those do-it-yourselfers...and of course, he couldn't resist. The result being this piece, Clintonism Lives, which I'm fairly sure was not intended as self-parody. But the fact that the guy who masterminded Hillary Clinton's campaign into a ditch still doesn't get that this is not the week for an apologia should be a cautionary tale for other Clinton fans: They will be judged on the extent to which your grudges are on display in Denver - which is why I fully expect the Clintons themselves to be gracious if it kills them. Yes, Bill is out there grousing that he's not sure how to sell Obama as commander-in-chief. But by Wednesday, I'm sure he will have figured it out.

What Hillary Nation has to think about is: Even on an it's-all-about-you basis, if John McCain wins in November, are you so sure that vindication of Hillary's prediction that Obama wasn't electable will be the result? It's just as likely she'd be blamed for such an outcome, which the Clintons know. That's why she will hit every mark and then some. And why, if he goes so much as cocks an eyebrow off message, we can safely assume he really has lost his last political marble.

Sober Reflections on "Closure"

I’m with Melinda on this one Emily. I’ve always believed that "closure" and "catharsis" are pretty much just empty words one generally uses to justify sleeping with ex-boyfriends after the fifth glass of wine. The mere fact that Clinton insists this roll call will be cathartic, just as Obama asserts that’s not the point at all, highlights the deep disconnect here. Not all symbolism is empty. But symbolism is not always enough, either.

That said, I found myself longing for a strong shot of Hillary as the first swiftboats were launched this week. As Tim Noah has pointed out, watching the conservative imprints of reputable publishing houses float "books" comprised of lies braided to racial and religious stereotype and innuendo is like being dragged back to the wretched Groundhog Day of 2004. And watching the media sputter "But ... these books aren’t true!" is almost worse. I can’t help but feel that Clinton would have matched kidney punch for kidney punch with Corsi and his ilk. She knows better than anyone that there just no “rising above it” to be done, when there’s no depth to which your opponents won’t sink.

When You Call My Name, It's Like a Little Prayer

Fiddle faddle, Emily; placing Hillary's name in nomination at the Democratic National Convention will not lead to the "catharsis'' she keeps talking about, and I'm not positive that catharsis is the goal.

Long ago and far away, I rode a bus to Tlacotalpan, in Veracruz, Mexico, for their winter Candelaria Festival, primarily to dance all night and see the running of the bulls. But the most memorable thing about the trip was the yearly ritual in which the townspeople carry a crowned and silk-gowned statue of the Virgin Mary (the Candelaria Virgin) out of the church and through the streets on a little platform, as a huge and completely frenzied crowd cheers, waves at the statue, reaches out and runs after her. They throw flowers, too, and when they put her on a barge to take her for her annual ride up and down the river, some people fall into the water while trying to lay hands on her hem. And yes, what I'm saying is: They could carry Hillary Rodham Clinton into Denver like that and still not satisfy those supporters who have decided to stay mad.

Case in point (and why I was already thinking so Virgin-ally about all this): I run into a Hillary supporter I know in the drug store the other day, and she tells me she still hasn't taken down the Hillary shrine "complete with votive candles'' that she has in her house. Ha ha, I say, but no, she says, she is not kidding. Now, first of all, I love that this gal gives enough of a hoot about our country to get emotionally involved on that level; she worked her heart out for her candidate, and good for her. Clearly, we'd be better off if more people gave of themselves so passionately. When I ask what Obama would have to do to win her over, what she says first is that he'd have to adopt Hillary's health care plan. But by the end of the conversation, we get to the real bottom line, which is that she just doesn't like Obama, sees him as a total poser and nothing-burger who swooped in from nowhere and stole the thing, and all the health care reform in the world is not going to change that. At this point, she's thinking seriously about staying home on Election Day. She is not going to wake up the morning after Hillary's name is placed in nomination and have a whole new lease on Obama. And my guess is, Hillary knows that.

Calling Clinton's Delegates