[...] For the last year and a half I've covered the presidentialrace, focusing first on Hillary Clinton, then moving over to Obama.
AfterClinton's defeat in the Iowa caucuses, she decided she needed anemergency reinvention. She began mixing with reporters, sipping a glassof wine late at night in the aisle of her campaign plane andunburdening herself about the state of the race. As her prospectsdimmed, her accessibility grew. Sometimes she was off the record, butyou can't say she wasn't fun.
Not so with Obama. One of thestriking ironies is that a man who draws tens of thousands of people tohis rallies, whose charisma is likened to that of John F. Kennedy, canbe sort of a bore.
Discipline is essential for candidates whowant to drive home a consistent message, or avoid the self-sabotagethat comes with a careless answer. A steely perseverance helps explainwhy Obama at this point stands a better than even chance of becomingthe 44th president. But when you're exposed to the guy 18 hours a day,it's a bit maddening. You want him to loosen up.
I've watchedObama demonstrate a soccer kick to his daughter in Chicago; devour acheesesteak in Philly; navigate a roller rink in Indiana; drive abumper car; and catapult 125 feet in the air on an amusement-park ridecalled "Big Ben." He's done it all with dogged professionalism, butwith little show of spontaneity. After all this time with him, I stillcan't say with certainty who he is.
A couple of images from the long campaign stay with me.
Onewas watching Obama enter an apartment building near his Chicago homefor a morning workout. He wore dark sweats, a gray T-shirt and abaseball cap pulled low over his forehead. In those few seconds it tookhim to walk from the car to the building, with his head down, thin andsolitary, he looked nothing like the adored politician presiding overrallies. It was a reminder that behind the hype and the TV ads is thisone rather vulnerable-looking guy. And in that moment came thequestion: Is he really ready to take over the toughest job on theplanet?
The other was a hot summer afternoon in Iowa. Obamawas flipping burgers at a backyard barbecue, in what the campaign hopedwould be an exquisite photo opportunity. A fly began circling his head.Then more flies. Pretty soon flies were swarming him, the burgers --everything. It was awful to watch. But in rhythmic fashion he beganwaving them off with his hand. He scooped up the burgers and headedback to the picnic table, as if nothing had gone wrong. That smallepisode told me something about Obama's temperament. I would havewanted to fling the grill over the fence in frustration.
Both impressions came from a distance. A cordon of aides ensures nothing more intimate is available to the traveling press. [...]
First Clinton, then John McCain made the argument that Obama is someonewe don't really know. Obama's supporters counter that we have hisrecord in the U.S. and Illinois senates, two memoirs that reveal hisinner thinking and a vast trove of public speaking. Ironically, thoseof us who were sent out to take his measure in person can't offer muchhelp in answering who he is, or if he is ready. The barriers set inplace between us and him were just too great.