Andrew Tobias is a financial analyst and author who posts an occasional comment on his blog. He watched the debate, reacted as many of us did, then thought twice after he watched Lawrence O’Donnell on MSNBC the following night. He invites you to watch too.

He wrote:

Before I get to the important thing, it’s also important to thank all of you who came last night (see below), all those who couldn’t but gave anyway, and all of you who are helping in other ways.

So now:

Thursday night’s debate was horrible.

My first reaction was to post something very short and noncommittal (read it here, if you want) — and I stand by every word.

But privately, like almost all my friends and donors and the press, I was ready to pull the emergency cord.  Open convention!  Open convention!

But, boy, did Lawrence O’Donnell last night provide the perspective we all need.

I cannot urge you strongly enough to watch or to listen (wherever you get podcasts).

That’s what I posted just now (in case you feel moved to share it), along with these two personal notes.

First: at our event last night I got to watch the President in action.  He was terrific.  But let me put it in perspective.

In my case, knowing I would have to meet and greet lots of donors and then speak for four minutes, I didn’t get out of bed until 11, took it easy all day, suited up around 5, armed myself with an Advil and some Hall’s menthol eucalyptus lozenges, took the subway down to the Hammerstein ballroom and, after an hour of pre-event reception, glad-handing new and old friends over fairly loud background music, had lost my voice.  And had that weird thing where one of my ear drums had gone into a hard-to-describe “echo” mode.  (Has that ever happened to you?)  So I stopped talking (“yes!” I hear those of you who know me best cry) and eventually the 400 or so of us at that reception went downstairs to the main event.

I knew I was the last speaker on the program and, one way or another, would make it through my little remarks and welcome Alan Cumming back on stage to close the night out.  (If you don’t know Alan Cumming, look him up.  He is as charming and cheeky and talented as anyone on the planet.)  And I did get through my four minutes.  My voice had returned and my eardrum had righted itself.  But that was my day.  For a four-minute talk.

In the President’s case, he got up after however much sleep he had after that debate (I’m guessing not much?), flew to a rally in Raleigh where he was strong and terrific (watch or listen for clips), shaking hands and interacting with dozens of people, flew to New York for a rally with Elton John and loads of dignitaries at the Stonewall Inn, shaking hands and personally connecting with dozens more people, and then arrived at the Hammerstein ballroom, met individually for photos with each of more than 50 couples, interacting with each, then spoke to 900 of us SO well and SO forcefully that one of you — who is no billionaire, by the way — came over to me afterward and gave another half million dollars.

See the difference?

And even I, with the bandwidth to do just one event moderately well, would be a vastly better president than Trump. (Hold that thought.)

But in a debate?

And that brings me to my second personal note.

A long time ago I wrote a book about the insurance industry.  And back then, I used to get paid tons of money to “speak” — typically, 45 minutes followed by Q&A followed by book signing.

The book made it onto the Times best-seller list for 10 weeks because the publisher got me onto a few national TV shows and every local radio show in the world.

The speeches were easy.  I was usually pretty good.  The occasional standing ovation, even.  Only bombed three times (seared deeply into my memory).

But the TV and radio appearances — which had always been a breeze with prior books — were a nightmare.  Because the insurance industry had somehow obtained my schedule and gotten the stations always to book one of their people “for balance.”  And I was terrible, even after the first few times, because I could do little more than sputter.  They were saying so many things that were simply untrue or misleading or designed to keep me from finishing my point.  It was combat, and I’m not good at combat; or at keeping my cool when someone lies and I know I should keep my cool, but . . . it was awful.  I was awful.

And yet I really was the one telling the truth.  And the subtitle of the book (“Everything the Insurance Industry Never Wanted you to Know”) was true — there was a lot they didn’t want you to know . . . and were really good at keeping people from knowing it.  And making my head explode.  I can only imagine what it would have been like if I had had, in addition, a lifelong stutter to overcome.

And still I’m telling you:

  1. I would be a vastly better president than Trump.
  2. Joe Biden is a vastly better president than I could ever be. 
  3. Please, please, please watch or listen to that Lawrence O’Donnell.

Have a great weekend.

One way or another, we’re gonna win!