Obama’s Diary

After the debate, while we were milling around on stage, I stepped over and asked Hillary why Mike Huckabee is still running against John McCain. There’s no way Huckabee can win.  Why is he still in the race? Hillary smiled and said, “McCain is old. He may not make it to the convention. Huckabee is playing the vulture card.”

I thought about her answer for a moment and another little light bulb went on. Hillary is a smart woman. Everyone agrees that I have run a very good, very capable campaign for President, and no one knows that better than Hillary Clinton. Still, it was obvious to me tonight that I have plenty to learn about politics, even if it comes from the wife of Bill Clinton.

When Hillary was asked by CNN if she thought Barack Obama was qualified to be Commander-in-Chief, I expected her to take quick aim, pull the trigger, and blast away. Instead, Hillary focused on herself and how qualified she was. I was surprised. She had a shot and didn’t take it. Why?

For a moment, only a moment, right there on national television, Hillary Clinton had an opportunity to take me down, score some political points, and yet she refused to squeeze the trigger. Why?

Hillary has a heart. She couldn’t bring herself to say that I was not qualified to be Commander-in-Chief. That would be windfall fodder for John McCain during the fall campaign. As I stood there on stage looking at her visit with CNN’s reporters and smile at her supporters, I realized what she did. Hillary knew it was better not to score points against me than it was to give ammunition that John McCain could use in the general election.

Hillary is a smart woman.

If shoplifting is a crime, then Hillary Clinton is a kleptomaniac. No, wait. She’s a two-faced kleptomaniac with delusions of political grandeur.

Looking back on tonight’s debate, I was way too easy on Hillary. She accused me of stealing words and making them my own. I felt like saying, “Hillary, get over it already. This is politics. Lifting phrases is what we do.” I have a cold and wasn’t feeling like another tit-for-tat word battle with the Queen of Scowl, so I let it slide and didn’t follow up when she accused me of using someone else’s words.

What does she do? She finishes up the debate with stirring rhetoric about all the hits she’s taken in her life being nothing compared to what the American people endure everyday. Sorry, Hillary. You can’t have it both ways. You lifted whole sentences from Bill Clinton’s speeches going back to 1992.

In 1992, Bill Clinton said, “The hits that I took in this election are nothing compared to the hits the people of this state and this country have been taking for a long time.”

Tonight, Hillary said, “You know, the hits I’ve taken in life are nothing compare to what goes on every single day in the lives of people across our country.”

Hillary Clinton, political kleptomaniac.

Some call it a hot air balloon, some call it a souffle. Whatever it is, it’s still rising. Barack Obama, captain of the good ship Souffle.

Inside one of the rest rooms on my campaign plane is a cartoon which depicts the Clintons trying to roast me in a boiling pot of soup. Hillary tosses in salt and pepper, while Bill does the stirring. All they can see is me smiling while little bubbles of hope emerge from the pot. Michelle said it looks like I’m passing gas, hence the smile. She says I always smile when I pass gas.

As the primary campaign draws to a close, the Clintons are getting desperate, trying their best to boil me alive in a scalding soup of criticism. They called me light in substance who will deflate when they poke me. They said I plagiarized. They poked, and poked, and poked, and yet Obama’s good ship Souffle continues to rise.

Hillary and Bill’s tag team strategy failed. Now it’s John McCain’s turn, and all the Republican front runner came up with is an anemic, “To encourage a country with only rhetoric is not a promise of hope, it’s a platitude.” John, is that your best shot? Sure, I borrowed phrases from John Edwards, from Governor Deval Patrick, from Cesar Chavez, from Dr. Martin Luther King, even from John McCain himself.

Hey John, are you fired up and ready to go yet? Wait. Hillary said that.

It takes more than mere words to bring down this Souffle, John. Hillary and Bill gave it their best shot and look where they are today. The same place you’ll be in a few months. Watching a souffle rise.

I’m very proud of Michelle. She was at a rally in Milwaukee and ready to take the stage for a speech. Michelle looks tough but she gets real nauseous in front of a crowd, especially just before a speech. Then she got a call on her cell phone from Oprah.

When Oprah calls, we answer. Everyone answers to Oprah. She may look all pleasant and feminine on television despite the extra pounds, but I’ve seen her slap Stedman around a few times. She can be mean. Money does that to black women.

Anyway, Michelle told Oprah she was feeling a bit nauseous all morning. Oprah’s no dumb bunny, and she put two and two together, and said, “Michelle, honey, are you pregnant?” Michelle assured her that wasn’t the case and she always gets a case of nerves before speaking in public.

So Oprah launches into her own little speech about human rights, and oppression, and black pride, and how Michelle has an obligation to black women everywhere to stand up tell them to be proud. Michelle already knows that we don’t put black causes into campaign speeches, even if it was a suggestion from Oprah. White voters are nervous enough already.

After seven minutes of rattling on and on about how blacks need to take back America, Michelle excused herself. Oprah said, “OK, I gotta run, too, so, you go girl,” and hung up. That was it. Michelle didn’t cave in to Oprah’s pressure tactics to insert black causes in the campaign, gave a great speech about how this is the first time in her adult life she’s been proud of America, hope is making a comeback, and people are hungry for change.

I couldn’t have said it better even if I’d used someone else’s words.

I’m convinced that John McCain is an angry old man who relishes a good fist fight. I’d rather challenge him to one-on-one basketball. Everyone knows that angry white men can’t jump.

White men love to shoot, though. McCain is publicly scolding me about public campaign funds. He’s on record for saying he’ll take public funding if he’s the nominee. I’m on record for thinking about it. It depends. It’s not a slam dunk.

Poor John may have a lock on the Republican nomination but he hasn’t raised much money. Either there’s just not as many rich white men ready to open their checkbooks as there used to be, or they can smell the blood in the water. Whatever the reason, McCain is short on money, and I’m not.

McCain has already pledged to accept public campaign funding and I can’t blame him. People rob banks because that’s where the money is. Ever since the Watergate scandals no major party candidate has rejected public funding of a presidential election. If McCain is having trouble raising funds, then he certainly wants public funding for his campaign. I understand that.

I just don’t like being scolded in public by an angry old white man who can’t jump.

Michelle and I were talking about the effects that my campaign for President is having on the kids. We both agree there are positives and negatives.

One of the positives is that we just don’t have any trouble getting dinner reservations these days. It doesn’t matter what the restaurant or how booked they are or when we call. They always seem to have a table ready for us. Michelle loves that. It’s also a good way to ditch the Secret Service agents for a couple of hours.

Another plus was getting theater tickets. I had David Plouffe call around to get tickets for the kids to see Hannah Montana. That was an exercise in futility. It was either sold out or stand in line overnight. So, I told David to call and tell them the tickets were for Barack Obama.

That didn’t work, either. I had to call the ticket office myself. I finally convinced them that I was Barack Obama but they wanted me to show up in person to get the tickets. Going out in public for personal things is a problem, so Michelle and I got in the car and headed down to the ticket office. I pulled on a ski mask and a baseball cap and walked up to the ticket counter and asked for six tickets under the name of Obama.

Instead of giving me the tickets the clerk behind the counter took one look at my ski mask and hit the burglar alarm. The cops didn’t believe it was me until I pull the baseball cap off and my ears flopped out.

I don’t care if people call this a grudge or not, but I’m not doing any interviews with reporters at the Cheney Channel, sometimes referred to as Fox News.

It’s bad enough that Fox news reporting makes Adolf Hitler look like a liberal, but their reporters are male versions of the Stepford Wives with a hard wired aversion to facts and truth. Last night I got another phone call from Roger Ailes, Fox News CEO. This time he wants me for a Fox sponsored debate with Hillary.

I said, “Roger, read my lips. No more debates on Fox.” Then I proceeded to rip him a big one and complained about the quality of their videos of me on the news. Whenever a video shot of me appears on Fox News I’m about six shades darker than the same video on CBS or ABC or even CNN.

The implication is clear. The Cheney Channel doesn’t want a half-white man to run for President, they want a really, really black man to run against the really, really white John McCain. That’s the problem with Fox News. Everything is black or white or red.