What does this column say? It says nothing. It doesn’t even have any of her trademark half-clever puns.
“Even as he grows arugula in the White House vegetable garden, Barack Obama never again wants to be seen as the hoity-toity guy fretting over the price of arugula at Whole Foods.
That is why the president ends up sending mixed signals on food.”
Really? Does he? Because, to be honest, nobody has been paying ANY ATTENTION AT ALL to this, except for Maureen Dowd. I know that there’s a problem with obesity in this country, but I don’t think it’s the president’s job to whip Americans into shape. I’d prefer he deal with the economy, two wars, public health insurance, and the like. Oprah can tell me how to trim my waistline. Obama’s got enough on his plate.
(Did you see that? That was a pun. “Enough on his plate,” as in metaphorical food on a metaphorical plate, which is funny because we’re talking about real food here. It’s almost Maureen Dowd-worthy.)
Anyway. There’s ten minutes of my life that are never coming back.