The primary season is over. Still, one gets the uncomfortable feeling that, come next January, if Barack Obama lifts his right hand to take the oath of presidential office, Hillary Clinton will suddenly somersault onto the podium a la Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and slap her hand onto the Bible instead.
Despite the shadow of Clinton’s non-concession on the final Tuesday of primary season, Obama turned his sights toward the “maverick.” He kicked off the general election campaign in front of a massive, wildly enthusiastic crowd of 17,000 (15,000 more waited outside) in St. Paul, in the venue where McCain is expected to receive his party’s nomination for president at the Republican convention.
On primary night, John McCain offered a pre-emptive strike just before Obama’s announcement that he had enough delegates to clinch the Democratic nomination. The McCaininator spoke in front of teeming dozens, who seemed to be in the back room of a funeral home, ginning up so much enthusiasm they managed to wave their signs slowly, clap a little and occasionally chant.
His manner was that of a stern professor emeritus circa 1956, lecturing the kids on why their newfangled rock and roll music a) would damage their tender ears even if they didn’t know it yet, and b) was just a fad. He might as well have said, “Rock and roll even violates the ‘no parallel fifths’ rule of harmony, kids! That’s not change you can believe in!”
McCain’s core message seemed to be that Obama’s version of change was too scary. He offered his nearly enthusiastic supporters a safer version of change, one without so much change in it. He evoked a can-do spirit of not getting too carried away.
After the biggest moments, as apparently directed by the teleprompter (a technological innovation with which McCain seems to have a deeply ambivalent relationship), he offered a smile like a grandfatherly vampire who’s just eaten a canary. The chuckle that sometimes followed was, to put it kindly, unconvincing.
Even the background, a stunning green, drew commentary. “Attaturk,” a contributor to the widely read Eschaton blog, offered the best take: “Oh, go with the green background. It’ll make you look like the cottage cheese in a lime jello salad.”
Strangely, McCain, while bashing the kid for being so goldurn naive, spoke in front of the slogan “A Leader We Can Believe In,” as if to say, “Obama’s all wrong, but we’re going to try to emulate his ‘Change You Can Believe In’ slogan, you know, just in case.”
The networks cut from the raging dozens of almost-napping McCainiacs to the crowd of 17,000 waiting for Obama, who entered to U2’s grandiose “It’s A Beautiful Day.” McCain’s grand entry wasn’t televised, but one wonders if his song wasn’t Hoagy Carmichael’s “Rockin’ Chair.”
The campaign dynamic (though “dynamic” might be too strong a word) that emerged on the final primary night revealed a McCain who seemed far from the “maverick” we’ve heard about for years. It was easy to feel bad for him, despite the clear and present danger that he could possibly win and continue Bush’s misguided march away from America’s democratic traditions. (McCain finished off the week by completely reversing his former disagreement with Bush’s push to offer telcom companies retroactive immunity for their help in spying on Americans.)
The OK Corral is set for the November showdown. But McCain seems to have arrived for the big gunfight with a jello salad. We can only hope his recipe for change keeps coming out lime green.•
