Who says American oratory is dead? It has been resurrected and refined on a
mountaintop in Denver. What a triumph of staging, what a well-modulated
voice. Even the speaker's angrier tones seemed well orchestrated,
beautifully paced, understated, really, considering the injustices he was
doing battle with on our behalf.
"This election has never been about me. It's been about you," he told us in
his ever-modest way, as the spotlight played on his handsome young features,
and the sea of waving posters below him plastered with his name. Barack the
Beatific was accepting his party's nomination for president of the United
States not just with humility, but "great humility." Our leader prides
himself on his humility.
How easily the phrases flowed in that mile-high gladiatorial setting,
rippling out across the nation and the world like a warm embrace. Casual yet
fully in control, The Nominee spoke with a Roman self-command. His clear
diction, his perfect timing, his personal connection with each and every one
of us . . . what a magnificent production.
And he never overdid it. This is a William Jennings Bryan for the
metrosexual era. No harsh cries at the top of his voice but only lulling,
irresistible persuasion. Who wouldn't follow him? Only distant, impersonal
others had anything to fear from this eloquent young man.
The corporations. The rich. The far away. The foreigners who were stealing
our jobs. But he was never harsh about it. His manner, like his stand on the
issues, is always negotiable. Turn the verbal power down slightly, and his
oration would have made perfect background music. Call it the progressive
jazz of politics.
Contrary to the platitude, it's not the thought that counts, certainly not
in an acceptance speech before a huge adoring throng, but the music. And the
music this night extended far beyond that amphitheater atop the Rockies.
Barack Obama's tones spread out across the nation, into living rooms and
restaurants, mesmerizing listening parties and blaring forth in Times
Square, its participants as entranced as they'd hoped they would be.
What a fine xylophone touch Barack Obama has. His Brubeckian riffs and
velvety chords brought us together in pure appreciation of ourselves. The
rare hard beat mixed things up just enough to keep the emotions stirring.
CNN, NPR, MSNBC, YouTube, the World Wide Web . . . none were quite the right
medium for this performance. It ought to be a record, maybe an old 78 rpm
with a nice worn cover. Easy listening for emotional release.