So far the GOP primary race has resembled less a political process and more like the cover of a thirteen-year-old girl’s notebook with stickers of her current favorite star, covering over the old ones like old wallpaper: Daniel Radcliffe (“Harry Potter”) gave way Justin Bieber, then to the Twilight boys, flipping between the soulful gaze of Robert Pattinson to the bulging biceps of Taylor Lautner, and all the while waiting for the Mr. Perfect to come along. (It can never be a girl idol; they’re nice, but they’re not dreamy.) It’s as if Time and Newsweek have become the Tiger Beat of politics.
Now that we’re in the middle of the latest GOP crush — this time it’s Chris Christie — I can hardly wait to see who the next one will be when this fad runs its course. Who will the nation turn its lonely eyes to? Paul Ryan? Jeb Bush? Teddy the Wonder Lizard?
The Christie Crush will last about as long as the last one did, and then they’ll realize that A) he’s not that into you and B) he’s nothing special, anyway. There is no magic in the man from Trenton; he’s just another noisemaker and bully, and while it may be fun for some in the GOP to watch him pull off a Tony Soprano-like rant against the public school teachers or the woman who had the nerve to ask him where he sent his kids to school, this isn’t what the world needs in a president. It’s what the world needs in the guy who drives the president’s limo.