I’m so glad I have some hot sauce, fresh salsa and sour cream to make this big bowl of crow I’m eating this morning more palatable. How did she win? It doesn’t make sense—that many polls aren’t wrong and I can’t bring myself to believe I live in a country where the Wilder effect (in which people tell pollsters they are undecided or plan to vote for a black candidate and then actually vote for the white candidate) still exists.

So my husband and I started our own optimistic analysis, in the midst of our, “I can’t believe Obama lost” slump.

The conclusion?

It was the tears. Come on girls, how many of us haven’t turned on the tears in an attempt to get out of a traffic ticket? When you’re young and cute (Hillary isn’t) the tears work well on men; apparently when you’re old and tired, they work on women. Hillary took 47 percent of the female vote in New Hampshire, compared to Obama’s 34 percent. In Iowa, the female vote was startlingly different: Obama soundly beat Hillary by winning 35 percent of the female vote to her 30 percent. Yes, there are certainly demographic differences that contributed to the difference, but this seems like too big of a swing to be purely due to that. It was the tears, which she used masterfully to manipulate the women of New Hampshire. Bone-tired and road-weary, Hillary cast herself as an overworked, aging Everywoman, relating to overburdened, tired women everywhere. This Everyman/Everywoman theme is something she’s been slow to grasp, but this year, we want to feel like our presidential candidate is one of us. To use her husband’s now clichéd phrase, we want to know that she feels our pain. And her tearful “share and care” session let us know that she does. Or at least that she wants us to believe she does. I believe it was a sham, an emotional manipulation the likes of which we haven’t seen since Steel Magnolias. The question that was asked before her public display of emotion did not really fit her answer. A 64-year-old freelance photographer asked her how she kept going, and who did her hair, and received the now famous response. This was a prepared outburst, waiting in the wings for an opportunity to be presented. It looks like it worked.

Women of America, I know a lot of you loved Steel Magnolias, but please don’t fall for this again. If Hillary was really an emotional, touchy-feely woman, we would have seen it in her post-Lewinsky interview. These are just crocodile tears.

Michele Franks

Hillary, honey, come on—are you dense? The snarky statement you made this weekend that “you campaign in poetry, you govern in prose,” showed exactly just how out of touch with the American people you actually are. We are looking for a little poetry, and by the way, Barack Obama could prose circles around you! Even John Edwards, whether sensing his campaign’s ultimate demise, or (despite his denial) jockeying for a VP slot, has jumped on Train Obama, as was evidenced by the ABC/Facebook debate, in which he zinged you with the words, “I didn’t see these kind of attacks from Senator Clinton when she was ahead. Now that’s she’s not, we hear them, anytime you speak out for change, this is what happens,” after you sharply criticized Obama.

The likability campaign didn’t work. We don’t like you. We don’t want to have a beer with you, a cup of coffee with you, and we are sure glad not to have been one of the people whose door you hiked through the snow to knock on in Iowa.

Just like your Tammy Wynette-like Stand By Your Man support of your lecherous husband, you will not let go of your tired “Ready on Day One,” strategy, even if it is not what the American people are pining for. Here’s a tip: IT’S NOT WORKING. YOUR POLL NUMBERS ARE DROPPING. You are not even trying to adapt your campaign strategy to what the American people are obviously looking for. America’s favorite pundit extraordinaire and Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me panelist Mo Rocca called your boilerplate spiel plodding and uninspired and went on to describe your weary posse: Bill looking miserable, and Madeleine Albright “looking more and more like Aunt Clara from Bewitched.”

The reason Barack Obama and Mike Huckabee are doing well and you and Mitt Romney are not can be neatly summed up in the words of a song from the Broadway musical Damn Yankees which I have altered a bit for the occasion.

Coach:
[Spoken]
See boys and girls, that’s what I’m talking about. Being the leader of our country is only one half skill, the other half is something else…..something bigger!
{sung}
You’ve gotta have heart
All you really need is heart
When the odds are sayin’ you’ll never win
That’s when the grin should start
You’ve gotta have hope
Mustn’t sit around and mope
Nothin’s half as bad as it may appear
Wait’ll next year and hope
When your luck is battin’ zero
Get your chin up off the floor
Mister you can be a hero
You can open any door,
There’s nothin’ to it but to do it
You’ve gotta have heart
Miles ‘n miles n’ miles of heart
Oh, it’s fine to be a genius of course
But keep that old horse
Before the cart
First you’ve gotta have heart

Hillary, you have no heart. If you want to be our president, you gotta have heart. Thanks for playing, and entertaining us with a few more months of Clinton dramatics before exiting, stage left. But like Ferris Bueller said at the end of the movie, it’s over. Go home.