In the second of three Presidential debates last night, John McCain evoked the name of Ronald Reagan, describing him as his hero.  After last night’s woeful performance from McCain, it would appear that hero worship is where the connection between the two men begins and ends.

Perhaps John McCain has “Town Hall Burnout” because The Gipper must have been rolling over in his grave. Whatever McCain handler recommended the feeble attempts at humor (talking about hair transplants he needs during an answer on health care) should be fired on sight.  This is a Town Hall!  The audience is instructed NOT to laugh, applaud or even react.  Even the lowest-rent Borscht Belt stand-up comic knows you don’t tell a joke when the chances of getting a laugh are slim.  If this is an example of his judgment, I’m not sure I want his “hand on the tiller.”  If Ronnie were still here I’m sure he’d give McCain a “there you go again.”

As far as stage presence, McCain looked fidgety.   When Obama was talking,  McCain, at times, looked like a vulture lurking in the background.  At one point he was even caught gesturing and mouthing something to someone in the audience.  When McCain was speaking, his movement around the stage had no purpose, and when you’re 72 years old the last thing you want to do is look like you’re wandering aimlessly.  These critiques are above and beyond the problems caused by his physical limitations, of which he has no control, but still contribute to a less-than-robust image.  In short, he seemed tired, old and cranky.  By contrast, Obama struck a calm, cool and unfazed pose on his stool.  None of that bogus note taking, no shaking his head while he’s being attacked… it was masterful.  He looked completely unflappable and eager to stare down his detractor.  And in these settings, unflappable equals Presidential.

Although McCain didn’t flash his legendary temper in its full fury last night, it was pretty clear that Obama has gotten inside his head and under his skin.  I didn’t think McCain could appear any more disrespectful and dismissive towards Obama than in the first debate when he did not look at him once and rarely referred to him by name.  But then came the now-famous “that one.”  In a patronizing tone McCain also called Obama “my friend,” very similar to the way Nelson Rockefeller used to call everyone “fella,” as if to say, “I’m really too important and superior to you to bother using your name.”

If McCain thinks he’s coming across any less mean and crotchety by smiling during his zingers and barbs he’s mistaken. If you’re going on the attack, go on the attack without trying to simultaneously seem like a great guy.   Smiling while you’re trying to take somebody apart just makes the viewer think you’re bitter, sarcastic and insincere.  When he does that he visually he reminds me of Lionel Barrymore’s character Mr. Potter in “It’s a Wonderful Life,” when he’s pretending to be nice to Jimmy Stewart just to trick him into forking over the ol’ savings and loan.  Perhaps that’s why of all the viewer polls taken last night, McCain took the biggest bath on “likability.”

But perhaps the most vexing problem facing McCain (and the most difficult to overcome) is his painful lack of comfort looking at the camera.  From the moment he was introduced last night, McCain looked to be in a desperate hurry to break eye contact with the audience and the cameras - that’s why he started scribbling some notes the minute he got to his stool.  What on Earth could you need to write down before the debate even begins?  It goes back to what our mothers always told us when our credibility was being questioned, “Look me in the eye and say that.”  John McCain doesn’t feel comfortable looking the American people in the eye.  Given our desperate need to trust and believe in a leader who can get us out of this multi-pronged mess we’re in, that could prove to be a fatal flaw.