You Don’t Need a Weatherman…

Following the mini-Woodstock of American politics – the only VP debate – the cameras and reporters began paying close attention to Gov. Sarah Palin. And not for more material for The Daily Show, but because the GOP VP candidate is a contender, even if her boss is still trying to find his footing.

Gov. Palin came out swinging. One of the weekend sound bites contained her talking about Barack Obama's alleged alliance with University of Chicago Professor William Ayers – terrorist, sorry, revolutionary. She was careful to frame the background of this man with words that have signaled modern Islamic terrorist; very clever, very politic.

In fact Bill Ayers is co-founder of one of the more notorious and violent anti-Vietnam war protest groups of the late 60's and early 70's. It was called the Weather Underground. For those too young to remember the Weathermen adopted the "by whatever means necessary" posture of the Black Panthers and other similar groups. By their own admission they plotted bombings and would have done worse if not for the FBI closing in.

Fast-forward to the most important presidential election in recent history. Ayers is a star of the Chicago far-left. It should surprise no one that the paths of these two men have crossed.

I am not much younger than Bill Ayers, so let me tell you about Charlie M. In high school he rode a Harley and he and Bob N were known for wearing the same pair of jeans an entire school year; the same unwashed pair of jeans. They went to the protests and were the first to pump fists, use the f-word and confront – spit on the police. As we got closer to draft age, the quarterback and class president joined the Marines, while Charlie and John got more radical. One day Chuck disappeared, packed up his blue Harley and did an "Easy Rider" due west.

About a year later Charlie returned to the old hang out. He had stories of mass protests and violent plots. He talked about overthrowing the government, weapons training and trusting no one. Charlie moved in shadows and spoke in slogans suitable for blood-red posters. Charlie M was comfortable between the cracks.

Here's the rub: I knew a Weatherman. Chuck was part of that underground for however long it held his interest. The quarterback and the class president came back from Vietnam with devastating heroin addictions. They lost all ambitions and one ended up in prison. The last time I heard from Charlie M he joined the police force in Detroit, of all places. He became what he once raged against.

I'm not sure of the point of this, except to show how easy it is to have unusual associations. I am not running for president and Charlie was not a founder of the Weather Underground, but he changed - dramatically. Professor Ayers changed, of that I am certain. And he is probably not the owner of the most questionable past among those supporting the liberal, anti war candidate. Should we attach all these fringe ideas, these fringe individuals to the candidate? If he is not your guy, then it really doesn't matter, now does it?

We Are All Witnesses

"The best way I can describe it is sky-writing. It was beautiful, soaring, and for the most part unreachable and fleeting. He talked about John McCain as though they were already opponents in the national election. Smart."

HUDSON, OH -- That is a phrase that is tagged with banality to an athlete. We know it well. It is draped across a wedge of a building near the place where this young man plays basketball. Yet every morning before a primary another game of round-ball is being played. Not for a $65 ticket and a multimillion dollar contact, but to keep a candidate healthy.

As I mentioned in an earlier piece, there is something historic happening here. It is the rise of stratospheric rhetoric and electrifying charisma and audacious hope and maybe - God help us maybe - a change for the better. Mr. Obama calls himself a "hope-monger," it is a clever ear magnet. His speeches are a combination of Kennedy and King, Reagan and Graham. He promises new ways for Americans to tap into the collective resource of a massive and growing government.

He is clearly a liberal; a progressive, if you prefer. I watched his speech tonight, preaching to the choir in the most liberal town in Middle America, Madison, Wisconsin. I also watched Mrs. Clinton trying to coral the lead in Texas and Mr. McCain with a small crowd of supporters in Virginia. Here's what I noticed: it did not matter what they said. Much of the speeches I watched with the sound down. Mr. Obama looked like he was already president. Mr. McCain looked about the same as he has over the last two decades. Mrs. Clinton appeared, frankly, desperate.

Then I turned up the sound. Barack Obama's speech was much like his writing and other things he represents. The best way I can describe it is sky-writing. It was beautiful, soaring, and for the most part unreachable and fleeting. He talked about John McCain as though they were already opponents in the national election. Smart. He spoke highly of the American hero McCain. Smart. And he talked to the folks, identifying with the challenges of everyday life. Smart. Hillary Clinton was offering local flavor, as though she were a longhorn, one of them, and together they aren't about to let this outsider mess with Texas. Not smart enough.

We are witnesses, and once again Ohio is the prize. I can only hope that when Mr. Obama completes his monumental sprint toward history, he remains flexible and learns how to govern. Because right now all I see is a projection of the president he hopes to be. Should he win, reality will overtake hope like a fast break from you-know-who.