The fat lady sings Friday

It's official, the fat lady will sing on Friday: Hillary was a smidge disingenuous last night by not throwing in the towel and letting a true winner win. She reportedly blew off two of Obama’s calls and eventually spoke to him late last night. Of course, decorum demanded that she should have called him right away when his victory was confirmed. Instead Mrs. Clinton spoke boastfully about her suitability for the nomination despite everything. A hissy fit perhaps or proof of “Clintons' 'deranged narcissism' (see article on this subject in today’s BR)? We’ll never know. Not at least until the book comes out.

Clinton realized she was between a rock and a hard place. She had the nomination in the palm of her hand for so long, even speaking down to Obama some months ago by offering him an opportunity to be VP, but arrogance, elitism, stupidity - call it what you will - allowed her ego to circle the prize she assumed she had (we know that assumption is the mother of all f*ck-ups) and it was snatched from her at the last moment. Her opponent rarely missed a beat during his campaign and kept his eye firmly on the prize. What a guy.

Hillary had lots of warning that this unthinkable distaster could happen but she was convinced that she had the nomination in the bag, a belief she confirmed over the past two weeks with her “who’s the best candidate for the party?” questions. She honestly believed, rightly or wrong, that she was the cat’s meow. I think she was too. She had the best credentials, a lifetime of politics, eight years in the White House actively involved in public service issues, a well earned Senator's seat in one of the toughest states in the union, and she had Bill. Ahhh, Bill.

Bill was described today in the press as having had a "mood change" since he had his heart by-pass four years ago. Indeed I've noticed it myself. I think the "mood changes" however - this is my personal opinion only - lie in the bottom of a bottle of Bud (Light), if that red complexion and fiery tempter are to be read correctly. Mood change.

Hill didn’t want to throw in the towel last night because to do so would have automatically forfeited her of whatever bit of leverage she thought she had for the VP position. By threatening to stay in the race she felt she would be a pebble in Obama and the Democrat Party’s shoes and would force them to give her what she wanted – the VPship and an opportunity to address the convention in August. She told the crowd that she had some decisions to make this week about moving forward - sure. She was waiting by the phone this morning for a call from Obama - in her mind - begging her to be his running mate. Didn't happen. The plan backfired. Obama bitch-slapped her (nicely though, nicely) today by asking a Kennedy to find him a VP. Ouch! That had to have hurt. A couple of broken early PierOne lamps in Maison Clinton today, I'd wager.

Perhaps if Mrs. (where's the Rodham?) Clinton, instead of letting her ego run riot at this last opportunity to speak to her fans, had raised the white flag early, praised her opponent and his tenacity in the face of incredible adversary. If she had been professionally humble (no need to get on her knees and nuzzle his fine a*s mind you, just enough to demonstrate her newfound affection for the presidental candidate) and allowed Obama to not lose face (as he did), Hill might, just might, have been in for the VP position.

Obama, in a flush of victorious warmth, filled with the joy of winning and basking in the gratitude that only successfully finishing a race like this can give, might just have said “Hil, sweetie, you can carry my bags to the White House.”