By GottaLaff
*Hottest f***ing president everObama, in that sense, fuses Jack with Bobby — the cool concealing the immense emotional message that he and we know he conveys. It’s hard to think of a comparable figure on the American landscape — of someone so simultaneously hot and cool.
Well, there’s one. A contemporary, and buddy, of Jack’s, who brought a cool, tough exterior, a sense of precision and understatement, to some deeply emotional content. Not a rock star — though he was the daddy of all rock stars.
Sinatra.
No, I’m not saying that Obama is mobbed up or that he drinks with the heavyweights or screws every broad around. Not that Sinatra.
I mean the Sinatra who modulates his way around “One for My Baby” or “Last Night When We Were Young,” who keeps it under wraps until the last eight bars and then lets it go. I mean the Sinatra of “I’ve Got You Under My Skin,” who bites off the words joyously, then stands back and lets the band just wail, as Obama, after he delivers the goods, stands back and lets his audience erupt.
I mean the skinny-tie guy, once even skinnier than Obama himself, who was never disheveled, who celebrated the lyrics, who toyed with his crowds, who understood that, in the songs of Porter and Gershwin and Rodgers and Hart, he had works of substance and emotional wallop that he downplayed until, at the climactic moment, he let them explode.
The cool around the hot. The slow-building case and the moral crescendo. The Chairman of the Board and the President-elect. Barack Obama — in the footsteps of Lincoln, King and Sinatra.
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