Obama's TV push jolts presidential tradition

Let the pundits wail and gnash their teeth about federally funded fat cat bonuses. Let the columnists dissect the stimulus package, explaining, with scholarly harrumphs, why it is or isn't the return of the New Deal, why the new administration is hewing dangerously left, perilously right or just altogether lost. President Barack Obama is not a product of media opinion or analysis; he's a child of television, and although he's not above writing a widely distributed op-ed piece rallying all nations to the G-20 summit, it is in television he trusts.

In the last two weeks alone, he surprised the traditional Washington press corps by passing on its annual Gridiron Club dinner only to make unprecedented appearances on ESPN, where he picked his NCAA bracket favorites, and "The Tonight Show With Jay Leno," where he committed his biggest presidential gaffe to date before returning to "60 Minutes" for a tough-questions interview with Steve Kroft. Tuesday night, he held his second prime-time news conference in the last 65 days, during which he not only answered policy questions with bountiful detail but also offered a glimpse of the elusive Obama temper. When a reporter continued to needle him about his "delayed" response to the AIG bonuses, Obama shut him down: "It took me a couple of days because I like to know what I'm talking about before I speak, OK?"

Not everyone approves of all this exposure, of course. Many critics, professional and not, see Obama's high visibility as a sign of narcissism or ineptitude. They complain that the man needs to stop campaigning and start being president. But this is, apparently, exactly how Obama defines being president.

Unlike the previous administration, and perhaps because of it, he seems to consider it part of his job to maintain the conversation he began with the American people at the 2004 Democratic National Convention. Television launched him from Chicago politician to presidential candidate, and if it ain't broke don't fix it.

In all his recent appearances, the president was able to display his talent for lucidly explaining complex issues while exuding the calm and easy dignity that Americans watched him develop during the presidential race. Distilled now to a resolutely optimistic and wonky hepcat charm, his on-screen persona at its best plays to the American desire for a real-guy president a la Michael Douglas in "An American President." At its worst, it fills its owner with the they-love-me euphoria that led to the blunder on "Leno."