With its precious pageantry--the color-coordinated periwinkle outfits, the "Unite for Change" placards, the unsubtle setting of Unity, N.H., where each candidate conveniently received 107 votes in the state's Jan. 8 primary--this afternoon's inaugural Clinton-Obama joint appearance must have made aspiring advance staffers everywhere tremble with joy. Sadly, nothing actually happened. Obama and Clinton entered the staging area! They shook hands with supporters! Obama touched Clinton's shoulder blade! OMG! Clinton's introductory remarks consisted largely of entire paragraphs copied from her June 7 concession in Washington, D.C., while Obama's, after a brief prologue of pro forma praise for the "good," "tough," "passionated," "committed" woman now standing at his side, was essentially his standard stump speech with every first-person pronoun inflated to the more inclusive "Sen. Clinton and I." Observers hoping that Clinton would unsheathe a scimitar and stab Obama somewhere soft, or at least whisper "psych" after every line, were left clinging to two measly deviations from the script--Clinton joking that "a spirited dialogue" was the "nicest way I could think of" describing their primary battle, and Obama echoing an audience member's claim that Clinton "rocks"--as the only moments of frisson. And they weren't even all that frissy.

 

The most interesting thing about today's dull performance was--as is usual with these things--the media's panting attempts to portray it as some sort of grand melodrama. Over at the New Republic, Michael Crowley likened the Clinton-Obama duo to both Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader and Itchy and Scratchy. (What, no Donner Party?) On MSNBC, Bloomberg's Margaret Carlson informed viewers that "it doesn't matter what Obama says as much as how he acts toward her," then went on to analyze the quality of his cheek kiss ("pretty good") and reveal that the two Dems--gasp!--"huddled together on the plane" from D.C. to N.H. "They could've not interacted that much," she added. "But they did." Good to know. Unfortunately, even the "juicier" gossip isn't all that juicy. Much has been made in the MSM of last night's "edgy" joint fundraiser at Washington's Mayflower Hotel, where prominent Clinton donors pressed for a "dream ticket" and a roll-call vote at the convention, as well as the tiny but vocal groups like P.U.M.A. ("Party Unity, My Ass") that refuse to fall in line. "Can Obama Win Over Women?" asks Chris Matthews. Um, yes. Obama has plenty of money (he'll raise an estimated $300 million for the general) and plenty of support (he's currently leading McCain by seven points overall, and by 12 to 24 points among the fairer sex). At this point, Clinton "has to do whatever [he] wants." Does she really, truly adore him, deep down inside? Probably not. But she's won't let it show. Ever.

 

Ironically, our addiction to the Clinton-Obama psychodrama--our refusal to stop tuning in even when there's nothing doing--is probably the single most compelling reason for Obama to tap his former rival as veep. No other No. 2 would attack the Republicans as viciously--a top job requirement and crucial Clinton resume point--and none would guarantee such obsessive, widespread coverage. As Democratic operative Bob Beckel recently put it, "She becomes the lightening rod, [and Obama goes] back to change and hope." Meanwhile, says Ben Smith, whenever Obama wants to deliver some unadulterated--read: boring--message to the American people, "he just needs to drag [a Clinton] on stage beside him and wait for the cameras." It's PR 101.

 

Of course, the flip side here is that the press and the public would be so fixated on finding signs of discord, distrust and dis- whatever else that it'd be difficult for the dream team to get any work done. And that's one of lesser problems with the proposed pairing. So even though the chattering classes will chatter on--"There you see it," said MSNBC's Andrea Mitchell when Clinton finished speaking, "what some people still hope could be a ticket"--we remain unconvinced. For today, at least, blue may be the color of coming together. But most of the time it just means misery.