You know, Hillary Clinton’s probably going to win this thing. It doesn’t even matter what happens in North Carolina or Indiana today. Like the lower half of her pantsuits, her campaign is finally approaching critical mass. The woman from Wellesley has morphed into the Okie from Muskogee. She’s schmoozing losers in greasy diners. She’s bellowing from the backs of pickup trucks. She’d be chewing tobacco and driving a mule if she thought it would get three more votes in Lincoln County. Obama, on the other hand, is starting to look like a seventh-grade civics teacher, weary of explaining to dim adolescents why the government can’t make people richer by printing more money.
Memo to Obama: See what is possible when you shrug off the tiresome rules of physics? You can promise all things to all people without shame. Your strength becomes greater than 10 CNN analysts. Your hair regains its youthful luster. Your sense of direction becomes exquisite: It coincides precisely with the way the wind is blowing.
Not that I’m for or against shameless pandering. I just wish both candidates would pander more to me, personally: a newly unemployed person who would prefer not to tell pollsters that he watches American Idol and owns a pit bull. I don’t eat in crappy diners and I never saw anyone shouting in the back of a pickup who wasn’t involved in a fistfight later that night. I’ve never drawn unemployment, but I wouldn’t mind getting some money in the mail. My house was affordable and my payments aren’t bad, but hey: if you can make them go away, I’m all for it. And as long as you’re promising cheaper gas, why not make it free? Throw me a bone here. If you can’t change my life in meaningful ways, at least extend the courtesy of an empty promise.
Actually, I have the TV on now and it appears that Hillary has just promised all of the above. Alrighty then. Eighteen months ago I bet a coworker dinner that however the Democratic race ended up, Obama would finish ahead of Clinton. I see I shall now have to renege. Obama may talk about change, but Hillary talks about pocket change. Dave’s Fiction Warehouse now projects that she’s winning it all.
And don’t talk to me about superdelegates. Yeah, Obama may still have the lead. But the rest know that if they don’t play along, one morning they’ll get out of a nice hot shower and open up the medicine cabinet, and when they close it there will be Hillary in the mirror, smiling unpleasantly. “Remember me? Losers lose, friend-o.” That’s one campaign promise she’ll definitely keep.