Saturday it ends. Then Obama can stop worrying about the real competition and get on with fighting the eminently silly John McCain.

Anna linked me to this post, which contains the following photo:



She and I agreed immediately that this is an oddly but potently touching gesture. It's hard to explain why, but it strikes me as an incredibly genuine gesture. The standard political motion would be to embrace, a brief kiss, and then they'd both turn and wave at their adoring crowd and the cameras with his hand around her waist or holding hands or something. And Obama is a polished enough politician that I'm sure that's exactly what they did right after, but this that moment right before, when they were just being Barack and Michelle. If it's true that love lies in the quirks and the details, then this is it. And it just makes me incomparably happy that our next president could be someone who pounds fists with his wife when they're congratulating each other.

Today, June 4, is my birthday. I spent June 3 listening to great records with my coworker, and then went to see Nels Cline play a show about as good as any I've seen. I arrived home about midnight, and shared the company of good friends. Just now, I flipped open my laptop to see if the primary was, indeed, over. I was greeted with the following:




That's about as good a birthday present as I can imagine.