We approach the prospect of one more debate with a sense of nausea. It’s like going into one of those all-you-can-eat places around Times Square: you look behind the glass at the steam tables, the ham that was sliced hours ago, the mashed potatoes that are getting crusty around the edges, and whatever hunger you had disappears. You know exactly what it’s going to taste like before you even try to crack a dinner roll.
But debate they must, and those who think Hillary will try to go out on what may very likely be her last face-off with Obama on a high note are dreaming. While some would say her shrinking poll numbers might be enough to convince her that the game is over, they are forgetting the Clinton never-quit mantra, one chanted more incessantly as the corner becomes tighter. Though the press has been thumping the “fall out” over Obama’s “bitter voter” comments, hoping a bigger story will appear amidst the dust, voters don’t seem to care all that much. Even Governor Ed Rendell, her biggest friend in Pennsylvania, said he thought the controversy won’t cost him “more than a couple of points at the margin.” Thanks, Ed.
No, I predict that Hillary will try and remind those who may not have heard of what Obama said in San Francisco last week, even if moderator Charlie Gibson doesn’t give her an early assist with a question about those gun-and-bible clinging townies — and she may very well be booed for her trouble, as she was at a union conference yesterday. Then don’t be surprised if she says something noble and compassionate about her opponent. This could be a political feint but at the risk of playing pop psychologist, I think it might be something she learned from having a temperamental dad.
No judgment here: I had one myself, and as anyone who grew up with an alcoholic for a parent can tell you, you never know what you’re going to get: that’s part of the fun. Where your singing at the breakfast table might have earned you a kind word yesterday, it could get you slapped this morning (“What is wrong with you?”). Until children of alcoholics figure out the rules of the game, they are left in state of confusion. And sometimes they adapt the behavior of their oppressor.
Hillary Clinton is a loyal party animal and I am certain that when Obama becomes our nominee, she will endorse him with conviction and urge her followers to lay down their resentments and get behind the man. But she must also be facing some bitter truths herself: if Obama’s remarks aren’t enough to alienate voters and/or convince some superdelegates that he is unelectable, she’s out of ammo. She can keep going through Indiana and North Carolina, and perhaps she must, but in her heart she’ll know she’s finished. That means back to the Senate with her future presidential aspirations very much in jeopardy, and more years of living in close proximity to Bill. That could drive any wife to drink.
So look for Sybil tonight and in the closing days of the campaign, a hydra-headed beast who must learn to accept the bronze medal with a smile and a wave but who must also curse the day that this skinny soul brother in the Motown suit snuck up and stole her crown. It’s enough to make anyone bitter.