Manassas, Virginia is in the "real" America. Driving into town, you pass a gun shop, a tractor sale, a McCain/Palin sign, and a tire yard -- all on the same block. The restaurants advertise "Good American Food" and the nice new development is anchored by an Applebees. This was the site of the Battle of Bull Run and, for that matter, Lorena Bobbitt's crime and trial. And yet, it was in Manassas that Barack Obama held his final rally, turning out a crowd estimated, incredibly, at 90,000.Even so, it was a subdued affair. Earlier that day, Madelyn Dunham, Obama's grandmother, had passed away. Obama eulogized her in North Carolina, but he hardly mentioned his loss in Virginia. The pain was his, not ours. But it settled heavily on the evening. Obama's speech had its traditional lilting cadence, but not its customary oratorical force. He didn't seem tired so much as, on some level, done. Like this was the hundredth time he'd given the speech today, and he didn't have it in him to make it seem like the first. So he did his job. He said what needed to be said. He launched his attacks and unleashed his applause lines and ran through his policies. He told the story of being tired in South Carolina, of wanting to stop, only to have a little lady in a tiny town revive him with her shouts of "Fired up?" "Ready to go!" The message was unmistakable. But the hot coil of emotion that might have elevated his final speech into one of the campaign's Moments was absent. It was just a speech. That, however, was all that was required. The time for speeches is over. For two years, this election has been about the candidates. What they said and what they thought. What they did and how they looked. But the process has now barreled beyond them. It is now about the voters. What they have heard and what they have concluded. Whether they have formed a preference and whether they care enough to vote. Tonight's rally was not about the spent figure who stood on the stage, but the 90,000 who had left the quiet warmth of their homes to hear him speak. Obama might have been subdued, but their very presence was evidence of their excitement. And at this point, it is their excitement, not his, that matters.Image used under a CC license from Tracy Russo. THE FINAL RALLY.
Manassas, Virginia is in the "real" America. Driving into town, you pass a gun shop, a tractor sale, a McCain/Palin sign, and a tire yard -- all on the same block. The restaurants advertise "Good American Food" and the nice new development is anchored by an Applebees. This was the site of the Battle of Bull Run and, for that matter, Lorena Bobbitt's crime and trial. And yet, it was in Manassas that Barack Obama held his final rally, turning out a crowd estimated, incredibly, at 90,000.Even so, it was a subdued affair. Earlier that day, Madelyn Dunham, Obama's grandmother, had passed away. Obama eulogized her in North Carolina, but he hardly mentioned his loss in Virginia. The pain was his, not ours. But it settled heavily on the evening. Obama's speech had its traditional lilting cadence, but not its customary oratorical force. He didn't seem tired so much as, on some level, done. Like this was the hundredth time he'd given the speech today, and he didn't have it in him to make it seem like the first. So he did his job. He said what needed to be said. He launched his attacks and unleashed his applause lines and ran through his policies. He told the story of being tired in South Carolina, of wanting to stop, only to have a little lady in a tiny town revive him with her shouts of "Fired up?" "Ready to go!" The message was unmistakable. But the hot coil of emotion that might have elevated his final speech into one of the campaign's Moments was absent. It was just a speech. That, however, was all that was required. The time for speeches is over. For two years, this election has been about the candidates. What they said and what they thought. What they did and how they looked. But the process has now barreled beyond them. It is now about the voters. What they have heard and what they have concluded. Whether they have formed a preference and whether they care enough to vote. Tonight's rally was not about the spent figure who stood on the stage, but the 90,000 who had left the quiet warmth of their homes to hear him speak. Obama might have been subdued, but their very presence was evidence of their excitement. And at this point, it is their excitement, not his, that matters.Image used under a CC license from Tracy Russo. 
