There are plenty of thoughtful pieces–Drew Westen’s in the New York Times over the weekend being the most recent one–that try to figure out what’s going on with Barack Obama.
In her autobiography, Helen Gahagan Douglas recalled telling President Franklin D. Roosevelt about her visits to the camps of migrant workers. She was especially poignant about the children and their lack of Christmas toys when the president tried to stop her. “Don’t tell me any more, Helen,” FDR told the woman who is probably best known for losing a dirty Senate race to Richard Nixon. She was stunned. Roosevelt was crying.
Cohen asks: “Can anyone imagine Barack Obama doing anything similar?” I haven’t a clue, but Cohen does–he’s seen the evidence:
The answer–at least my answer–is no. And this is quite amazing when you think about it. FDR was a Hudson River squire–down to his cigarette holder and cape. Nonetheless, he could connect to the less fortunate. Obama, in contrast, was raised in the great American muddle, not rich and not poor. Yet when the stock market fell more than 500 points last week and the image that night was of the president whooping it up at his birthday party, the juxtaposition–just bad timing, of course–seemed appropriate. He does not seem to care.
FDR cried when he heard the stories of children living in poverty. Obama didn’t even cry when the Dow lost 500 points. What an uncaring monster.