Obama Snaps At Reporters – Get Back on the Bus

I’ve long been arguing, like many, that Obama’s seeming total unflappability is, in some degree, a flaw…a weakness we’d like to see replaced with righteous anger and stiff left hook.

I wanted him to hit back at Bill and Hillary in the primaries – especially when they started ginning up the Muslim/Racist bits.

I wanted him to roll up his sleeves and beat the ever lovin’ snot out of John McCain many times and for many reasons.  “That one?  Who the fuck you callin’ THAT one?”

Yet he merely continued to follow his own reason – the only path to victory he could accept and the one he chose to follow long ago.  Barack is just smarter than the rest of us, and for that we may eventually learn to be thankful.  I’m thinking Wednesday morning would be a good time to accept that in those cases where we think, “Jeez…Barack should have done something different there,” it is our error, not his.

In a perfect demonstration of just how well sorted out and nailed down are Barack Obama’s priorities, world view and perspective, he finally got a little ticked with someone.  Not John McCain, or Sarah Palin, or Bay Buchannan, or Bill Kristol, or Rush or O’Reilly, Hannity, Joe the Plumber…not even the looming ghost of Joe McCarthy.

Taking a break from the campaign trail, B. was escorting his daughter (she in costume) to a neighbour’s home for a Halloween party.  When the media tried to scrum him like Paris Lohan after another coke whore party, Barack had had about enough.

Yahoo titles the bit Rare Flash of Anger from Obama.

“That’s enough. You’ve got a shot. Leave us alone,” Obama told reporters as he walked down the block with his 7-year-old daughter Sasha in her costume on the way to a party at a neighbor’s home.

Obama, usually cool in public during a campaign that has turned him into the frontrunner for the White House, did not disguise his irritation when his surprise walk caused news photographers and camera crews to scramble for position on the sidewalk.

He grew especially testy when a Polish television cameraman tried to approach them.

“Come on guys, get back on the bus,” he pleaded with journalists, many of whom had accompanied him from the airport to Chicago’s Hyde Park neighborhood.

Obama, wearing sunglasses but no costume, and his daughter, dressed up as what campaign aides said was a “corpse’s bride,” then broke into a sprint, leaving the journalists behind.

Campaigning for president of the United States is one thing, gentlemen.  But I’m not working now – I’m being Dad.
It is merely one more proof of how well suited for the job he is that he neither employed his adorable costumed child as a campaign prop (as Palin most assuredly would have) nor went all Sean Penn on the paparazzi motherfuckers (as I would have).

“Come on, sweetie…let’s make a run for it.”
“Race you, Daddy!”

I bet he let her win by two steps.

I fuckin’ LOVE this guy.

UPDATED THOUGHT:  There’s no way the secret service detail rolling along in their bullet proof SUV’s with the full-auto chopped down Uzi’s slung under their generously cut suit jackets had ANY idea Barack and Sasha were about to make a break for it.
Imagine the really very heavy armoured Escalades accelerating down the street as various and sundry 6’5″, 227 lb. strollers realize IT’S TIME TO MOVE…MOVE MOVE…[radio] “Oreo and Bamlet are moving!  Repeat!  Oreo and Bamlet are MOVING!”

I take some extra fucking joy in those boys experiencing what, for them, must be as close to panic as they are physiologically capable (mild frustration to the rest of us – those boys never “panic” – they have been trained to not do that).

Everything about this – surrounding joy in a target rich environment.  I am chuffed.  Chuffed.

Updated Updated addendum:  For an interesting bit on what constitutes a presidential motorcade, check this out on Stale.com.

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