A mysterious thing happened in that speech Tuesday night. By the end of it Barack Obama had become president. Every president has a moment when suddenly he becomes what he meant to be, or knows what he is, and those moments aren't always public. Bill Safire thought he saw it with Richard Nixon one day in the new president's private study. Nixon always put a hand towel on the hassock where he put his feet, to protect the fabric, but this time he didn't use the towel, he just put up his feet. As if it were his hassock. And his house.
So with Mr. Obama, about four-fifths of the way through the speech. He was looking from the prompters to the congressmen and senators, and suddenly he was engaging on what seemed a deeper level. His voice took on inflection. He wasn't detached, as if he was wondering how he was doing. He seemed equal to the moment and then, in some new way, in command of it.
Do I have to remind how much of a fan I am of the Pegster? That's why her unabashed admiration of Obama's speech is all the more painful for me. I think she's over the top with her praise, though if anyone should know about speeches, she should. No, I didn't watch the speech but as far as I know it was a merely okay. Certainly the markets paid little attention to anything he had to say. I think Noonan should fan herself and take a sip of cool lemonade and compose herself for a more gimlet-eyed review of the speech.
Obama's just starting out and no matter how badly we want him to perform miracles, he can't do them just yet.
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