When I Say Madam ...

You say President!

Madam!

President!

Madam!

President!

These were the words that got to me among a small crowd of thousands at the intersection a half block from our favorite farmer's market.

I've taken longer than I thought to write about this because I'm still absorbing it, still mulling over it and what I heard hours later, long after Hillary Clinton departed for her next Pennsylvania destination.

She was compassionate. And stunning. And full of life and passion. When she entered the stage, I couldn't hold the camera to take a picture. I was so moved by her presence.

She is fearless, and she is bold. She is everything -- and much more -- than the media has portrayed her these last 15 months.






She is not a quitter, and that's what we teach our children, isn't it? It's what we admire in the world's most courageous leaders. I admire her for that; I think she'll know when it's time to give up. We all do.

I learned so much more about her in a half hour than I have from any news report. If this were a job interview, I'd hire her on the spot for her passion for the job, for her details about how she'll do it and for her eagerness to please regular people like me and my urban dwelling neighbors.

Hillary speaks to her crowd as if they are intelligent, as if they get it and don't need a lesson in how hard long they've been depressed or repressed: she just lists and lists and lists all that she will do to make things better. Nothing glossy or sensational. Nothing evil or scary. Nothing bitchy or negative. No dreamy speeches with silver linings; just the facts, ma'am.

Yes, just the little itsy bitsy old facts that matter more than anything else in a presidential election, Madam.

Madam President.

(Sigh)


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