For a brief moment at a campaign stop in Portsmouth, N.H., Hillary Clinton let slip a glimpse of uncontrolled emotion. In response to a question from an empathetic voter who wondered how she remains upbeat and "so wonderful," Clinton's voice cracked as she conceded that the nonstop campaigning -- and all it entails -- is not easy.
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Clinton didn't cry. God, no. A woman seeking the presidency isn't allowed to do that no matter how tired she gets and how often she hears: People just don't like you. As if choosing the next commander in chief is akin to electing a student body president. So there were no tears rolling down Clinton's cheeks, and there was no messy sniffling. As displays of emotion go, this one was tasteful and reserved -- and ever so brief. It was like one of those perfect flickers of sadness that won Helen Mirren an Oscar for "The Queen." It was dignified, yet human.
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In this rare public moment when raw humanity flashed across Clinton's face and got caught in her voice, she was explaining why she's running. She was explaining herself: "Some people think elections are a game, lots of who's up or who's down. It's about our country. It's about our kids' futures. And it's really about all of us together."
A lifetime of work, sacrifice, frustration, patience and defiance seemed to be compressed in a few sentences. There was a little bit of disappointment in her words. A hint of exasperation. Her voice sounded heavy with tearful emotion. Not crocodile tears, but real ones. Not because she's a wimp. But simply because she's human.
Wow, all the sudden I feel inspired to start a slow clap.
Here's an excerpt of Givhan's equally stirring, and now-infamous July 20 column:
There was cleavage on display Wednesday afternoon on C-SPAN2. It belonged to Sen. Hillary Clinton.
She was talking on the Senate floor about the burdensome cost of higher education. She was wearing a rose-colored blazer over a black top. The neckline sat low on her chest and had a subtle V-shape. The cleavage registered after only a quick glance. No scrunch-faced scrutiny was necessary. There wasn't an unseemly amount of cleavage showing, but there it was. Undeniable.
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The cleavage, however, is an exceptional kind of flourish. After all, it's not a matter of what she's wearing but rather what's being revealed. It's tempting to say that the cleavage stirs the same kind of discomfort that might be churned up after spotting Rudy Giuliani with his shirt unbuttoned just a smidge too far. No one wants to see that. But really, it was more like catching a man with his fly unzipped. Just look away!
