When I saw this photo yesterday of Obama checking out this fine, shimmering booty , I felt- dare I admit this- a weird kind of pride. Obama has always portrayed himself as master of his own impulses. He exercises every day, doesn’t eat the cupcakes, dines every night with his kids, makes regular date nights with his wife. Once in Dreams of My Father he let himself wax on about the high he gets from playing basketball. But then mid-riff he stopped himself. “My wife will roll her eyes right about now,” he wrote. Nothing wrong with this self-control. It’s impressive, in fact. Except that it makes one long for some glimmer of the old male appetite. Sandra Tsing Loh got at the problem in her recent marriage essay when she wrote that men these days no longer buy mid-life crisis roadsters because they’d be worried about the safety of the seat belts.
Now finally, here was a tiny glimpse of Obama’s id. Despite his gentleman self, he seems to be sneaking a glimpse at this young lady’s gorgeous behind and fabulous hair when she can’t catch him doing it. And how can we fault him? I would have stared, too.
But, alas, if you watch the video , the old Obama returns. If he is indeed looking, its in a millisecond the photographer happens to catch. What he’s really doing is being his old gentleman self and helping another lady down the stairs. Nicolas Sarkozy, on the other hand, is openly ogling.
