Sometimes the cultural instincts of Middle America seem to be missing in Obama; he's the son, after all, of a Kenyan father and an American mother who spent her adult life trying to get away from America. It's impossible to imagine Barack Obama hitting all the notes (or knowing all the words) in a hymn to "morning in America." But he understood that if he intended to remake America in a way that few Americans could tolerate he had better do it before the fat lady sings. He knew that the magic of the campaign of '08 would eventually flee.
What he didn't expect was how quickly the magic would flee, how quickly the public would awaken and how fiercely the awakening public would answer the golden con. The public saw that Obama's idea of the overhaul of health care was the first step in overhauling everything, and if the public was surprised, the president was equally surprised by the "loud voices" of the town halls.
Suddenly railing at the sins and shortcomings of George W. Bush, both real and imagined, is not enough. The heartaches and headaches of the presidency are his now, and he is clearly astonished that the unique responsibilities of a president can't be eased by spending a few minutes with an adoring press, making a speech or dispensing an apology to a distant enemy.
The "loud voices" that bedevil the dreams of the president have served notice, as Fouad Ajami, an international studies professor at Johns Hopkins University, writes in The Wall Street Journal, "that Mr. Obama's charismatic moment has passed. Once again, the belief in that American exception that set this nation apart from other lands is re-emerging."
That's very good news for the rest of us, but it's enough to ruin a day at the beach as a summer of discontent fades into the suspicions of September. Obama becomes less a man for all seasons than a man who must be watched closely when autumn leaves begin to fall.