Obamas, stop being so damn perfect

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I finally found something I don’t like about the Obamas. They make me feel bad about myself.

Over the weekend, I watched Brian Williams’ special look inside the White House, where he takes 40 cameramen and 50 producers and gives us an intimate look at the Obama presidency. (Check out the fancy-schmancy web package here.)

I learned lots of interesting things, like that even Rahm Emanuel doesn’t pretend the President’s declaration of a “family-friendly White House” applies to anyone but himself. “I told him, ‘Yeah, it’s family-friendly. To your family,” he says.

I learned of the Obamas’ date night in New York. I glimpsed the Obamas’ new organic vegetable garden.

And here’s where I start to feel bad.

Chris and I can’t get to New York for date nights — and we could get to Manhattan in about five minutes, if we swam across the Hudson. We’ve been working on turning a tiny patch of dirt behind our house into — you guessed it — an organic garden. How’re we doing? It’s been about two years of talking, five months of actual planning, and many, many trips to Home Depot. We’ve yet to plant a single seed.

The Obamas are an aspirational presidency. I now feel I know what Americans must have felt during the Kennedy years:  a fascination with the private lives of this seemingly perfect First Family, along with envy and self-loathing. How possibly can we live up to this example?

Watching the NBC special, I did feel a twinge when the cameras caught Hillary Clinton lurking outside the Oval Office, waiting for her turn with Obama. It’s more than her presidency I missed. It’s that hopelessly flawed husband of hers.

God, he made me feel good.