I am not the president, I just play one on TV

This is my little sister's editorial published in the Fort Worth Star-Telegram on Saturday October 25, 2008.

I am not the president, I just play one on TV.
Ah . . . looking presidential in the debate season, or better yet, looking presidential without actually being president.
Personally, I think appearances and images are overrated. Does anyone recall George W. Bush at his best? He struck just the right note days after 9-11. Standing at ground zero, holding a bullhorn in one hand, his arm slung around a crusty firefighter, giving words of encouragement and gratitude to the emergency workers, he created perhaps his best presidential pose — he was the common-man president. He was the one who would guide us through scary times; he would make our shores safe; he would protect our children.
As even his supporters will tell you, it hasn’t worked out so well.
Appearing presidential in peaceful, good times is easy enough. You go to dangerous places, troubled lands. You meet with other presidents, you visit soldiers; you stand in front of flags and wave while climbing into helicopters.
But these are not normal times.
We are embroiled in our first full-scale global financial crisis. Yes, we have had to deal with global weapons, global warming, global villages, but this is our first economic global crisis.
In the 1950s we had to transform our way of seeing the world. Our world shrank with the advent of nuclear weapons. Oceans became ponds once our enemies had nuclear warheads.
In the 1990s we had to alter our way of seeing the environment. Our skies have been reduced to toxic ozones.
The pollution of Asia, of the United States, of Russia changes polar ice caps thousands and thousands of miles away.
Today we are in our first global financial crisis. Wall Street doesn’t merely affect Main Street; it affects Hauptsrasse, Rue Principale, Via Principale — Main streets the world over.
The economy has become the issue of this election. After each debate, pundits declare that they have yet to hear the knockout punch, the defining moment: "You, sir, are no Jack Kennedy"; "There you go again . . ."; Al Gore invading George W. Bush’s personal space. These moments have yet to happen.
Certainly this is not the climate for pithy statements. But, more telling, the crisis, and its possible solution, is too complex for a sound bite. Subprime loans, lack of regulation, esoteric derivatives; this is not the language of the masses.
So the candidates are left in new territory. How to look presidential when the weapons we face are not fueled by plutonium, but by credit-default swaps. Neither candidate has completely mastered the moment. The Straight Talk Express is not fluid in Financial Geek Speak. And the poetry of Obama, "We are the ones we have been waiting for; we are the change we seek," does little to calm voters who are losing their retirement.
Their words will not put liquidity back into the market.
The best they can do, perhaps, is address the two dominate emotions from their electorate: fear and anger. McCain seems at his best when he can express the anger of U.S. citizens, when he can point fingers and lay blame. Conversely, Obama cannot risk being overly angry lest he come across as militant. He seems better equipped to address our fears. In body language, tone and presence, he comes across as the more reassuring choice.
Over the next 10 days, as these two men rehearse their lines, choose their ties, apply their makeup, Americans can only hope each man wants to govern, wants to restore moral authority to our country, wants to be president and not just play one on TV.

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Amy Cooper - It's Not How Well They Bowl Or Drink

It's not how well they bowl or drink
By Amy Cooper
Special to the Star-Telegram
"Could we please take the Obama sign out of the yard now?" my spouse asks as he walks around Obama 08.
"But he's my guy," I explain.
"Come on. Our neighbors will think we're anti-American," he says. "Could you at least take it down before Shelly's soccer car pool comes?"
"Maybe, but don't think of me as a 'soccer mom' anymore. Call me an 'Obama Mama.'"
"I didn't know you knew his mama."
"Not personally," I reply, "but close enough. He's got a white grandmother who would save rubber bands by hanging them around the doorknob."
"That makes him presidential?"
"Don't you remember?" I ask. "I had a white grandmother who reused aluminum foil. She'd iron it out and recycle it for casseroles. We have a connection."
"But aren't all of your grandmothers white?"
"You are missing the point -- this is the post-racial candidate," I explain.
"Tell that to his pastor."
The luster is off. No matter which candidate you chose, you are apologizing for that choice a few months later. Worse still, I am at the crossroads of inane and absurd, choosing a presidential candidate based on nostalgia for reused tinfoil. I'll claim my absurdity but would argue that I've had help arriving here.
If campaigns are measured in dog years -- and this one surely is -- we're well into the seventh year. Comprehensive healthcare and foreign policy have been traded in for faux sniper fire and bitter gun-toters, traded in for bowling and shot drinking. In the candidates' attempts to connect to voters, policy has been slighted.
Give me a candidate who will admit that the old categories have broken down. Give me a candidate who will recognize that foreign policy and our own economy aren't separate entities.
In a globalized economy, it matters that iron ore from Brazil and Australia experienced a 65 percent price increase this year. These countries control more than 70 percent of the global supply; their major client is not the U.S. but China.
When we pay double for our Ford vehicles in four months, it will have had little to do with what has gone on within our borders. We are a debtor nation that can no longer claim unilateral superiority.
How long will other nations want to finance U.S. consumption? Not long, especially when there is a new, growing middle class (read: China) just as eager to consume as we are. Which candidate is willing to say that while executive power has increased in the Bush administration, presidential power outside our own borders has weakened?
Who is strong enough to admit we are vulnerable?
I must admit, though, that it's more fun to analyze campaign tactics than global economics.
As I remove Obama from the yard, I explain to my husband, "It's like they all want to date me."
Sighing, he remarks, "If you are dating Hillary, we will have to move."
Ignoring him, I press on with my analogy.
"Remember back when we were dating and I went to four hockey games in a week? Have I been to a single hockey game since we married? You think Obama will ever bowl again?"
"Remember the time I ate shrimp tails to help you close a deal?" he asks. "You think Hillary will ever down another shot?"
"You were guilty, too," I insist, "feigning an interest in Ryan-Hanks chick flicks while we were dating. Now we watch things blow up together."
"Well, my guy is McCain. Is he dating us?" my spouse asks as Obama is hidden away in the garage.
"All he has to do is say 'Hanoi Hilton' and we all swoon," I argue. "But I will concede moral authority to him."
I pause to let the depth of my presidential campaign analysis sink in. "You know what my mama says, though, about choosing a husband, don't you?
"She always told me that it's different than dating: It's not how well they dance or tell a joke -- it's how they feel about God, money and a sick baby crying in the middle of the night."
Wake up, candidates. There's a sick baby crying in the night, and there's no affordable gas to take her to the doctor, no affordable healthcare to pay for the visit, no affordable formula to get her through the night.

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