Eloquence

This morning, as I was making my feeble efforts on the exercise bike, I watched a CD of the first season of The West Wing. I'd gotten it from Netflix as an inducement to get up at an ungodly hour (which for me is any time before eight AM) and exercise, which I do truly dislike doing, but which I reluctantly admit is something I need to do.

So there I was, peddling languidly, and listening to Jed Bartlett waxing righteous, arguing, laughing, and at the end, sitting to give a serious, thoughtful broadcast regarding military actions that he had just ordered. And as I listened to him, I thought: Geez, why can't the real president sound that good?

I know, Bartlett's got all the advantages -- no need to list them, but they're apparent in an ad that Martin Sheen does, looking a bit hurried,'lets wrap this up in one take'. No or little makeup. He sounds -- almost -- like a normal person would sound. But when he's Jed Bartlett, he sounds -- there is no other word for it -- Presidential.

When was the last time we had that in real life? I was thinking about that once when I was listening to former New jersey governor Kean giving the presentation at the 9/11 Commission summary. His rolling, measured cadence commanded respect.

Substance counts, of course, much more than style. Still -- shouldn't the words of a sitting President have that same power, that same majesty, that same gravitas?

Shouldn't the President be eloquent?