There was a moment on Wednesday evening, just after Joe Biden had finished speaking, had finished explaining how -- at least as far as his good friend John McCain was concerned -- years of life don’t always equal strength of judgment. Explaining how the younger man could have the greater wisdom.
And now Biden was done, and the cheering was done, and Biden’s wife was onstage with him, saying something about a surprise guest, and suddenly there he was: The nominee himself. In the flesh.
He was smiling -- why wouldn’t he be smiling? But more than smiling: Barack Obama looked as if he’d exhaled for the first time in weeks.
This was -- finally -- his convention. His room. His crowd. His time.
Which is to say, there were -- finally -- no more Clintons.