A Page from The President's Diary for Friday, October 9

Executive Mansion, Washington D.C.

6:00 am:

Bobby Gibbs woke me up with a phone call: "Good morning, Mr. President. I've just taken a call from Oslo. The report is that you've won the Nobel Peace Prize." Hard to describe the race of emotions going through my head at that moment. I had been in the middle of a very pleasant dream about plans for a film version of "The Audacity of Hope." Denzel was going to play me; Beyonce was going to play Michelle -- maybe Spike was going to direct. I like Spike, but he is a little hard-edged. Frankly, I think Spielberg would be more sympathetic. And we could definitely get Oprah and Streisand to co-produce. It's true, I'd rather sleep late, and Gibbs' voice is kind of grating, but the Nobel Prize is the Nobel Prize. "Why me?" I asked my press secretary. "Was I even in office before the cut-off for this year's nominations?" Gibbs assured me that I had been in office 2 weeks as of the cut-off date. "They based this on my first two weeks in office?" I asked. "The reports are that you offered the world Hope, Mr. President, and that's why they gave it to you," he replied. 'God!' I thought. 'O'Reilley's going to have a field day with this. That's it. No Fox News tonight.'

7:00 am -- The Situation Room

Gates drones on about the situation in Afghanistan. Then Hillary pipes up about yet another bombing in Pakistan (didn't I send her to China? What is she doing here?). Then Mitchell starts in with "Netanyahu this" and "Abbas that," and blah blah blah. Nobody says a word about the Prize. I keep dropping little hints like: "That's a noble piece of an egg McMuffin you have there, Robert. Is that what they're serving in the Treasury cafeteria these days?" and "Well, we've got to keep our eyes on the PRIZE on this health care bill." and "Should we serve Swedish meatballs at the state dinner for the Saudi king?" But nothing. Not a nibble. Gibbs really dropped the ball on this one. I mean, do I really have to break it to my own cabinet? That's so lame. What's the point of having a press secretary if I have to toot my own horn?

9:00 am -- The Oval Office

Michelle drops by to announce that I need a new suit -- there's no way I'm going to the awards ceremony in an old suit, she says. I thought she kvelled when I won the White House, but she was really kvelling now. "Kvelling" is a good word. David Axlerod taught me that one. David's a good egg. 45 minutes later, Michelle is still kvelling about the prize, and she keeps waving her arms around pointedly. She has great biceps. Maybe Maureen Dowd will write another op-ed about them. Maureen's very smart. Who could I fix her up with?

11:00 am

The news is generally out and the calls start pouring in from all the usual suspects. Gordy Brown is gracious as usual, but that Scottish accent is unreal. It's like I'm talking to Sean Connery -- I mean, it's like James Bond is congratulating me for winning the Nobel Prize. But the call from Al Gore really gets my goat. In the space of about 4 minutes, he casually mentions the Oscars a dozen times. Ok, Al, I get it -- you won the Nobel PLUS an Oscar. You really think you're better than me? I mean: (A) you were never President and (B) You were out of office what -- 6 years by the time you got your prize? He's so pathetic.

11:30 am -- Rose Garden

Medal ceremony for some Boy Scouts. Not a single Boy Scout asks me about the prize. I know they're just children, but still, why didn't Gibbs brief them? Is he on some kind of power trip?

12:30 pm -- White House Kitchen

Nice quiet lunch with Henry Louis Gates. He's got this wild theory that I won the prize because I successfully mediated at the Beer Summit. Henry's a smart guy -- Harvard -- sure, but he is a little nuts if we're being honest.

2:45 pm -- Oval Office

Rahm Emanuel has his clipboard at the ready and he's reeling off the list of Congressional leaders who are with us and those who are against us on this prize thing. He's so serious. He needs to lighten up sometimes. I try to change the subject by remarking about how many prize winners have been Jewish, but Rahm has a one-track mind. I guess that's why he's such a great chief of staff. He tells me that the House Minority leader is holding a press conference and is opining that I didn't deserve to win the prize -- that it was all political. Rahm says he is going to send this guy a dead fish. I say nothing; I don't have to. Rahm knows that's an executive green light.

3:30 pm -- The Situation Room

Gates has some fresh news about the Taliban. He pronounces it "Tal-ih-ban." It's "Tolly-bahn," I tell him, but he will have none of it. "No sir, Mr. President," he says. "It's Tal-ih-ban. You're the only one who says Tolly-bahn. No one around here has the guts to tell you." There is an awkward silence. Finally, Gates says, "Nice job on that Prize thing, Mr. President." It feels a little forced. I'm sure that Gibbs coached him.

4:00 pm -- Air Force One

Quick trip to Detroit to address a U.A.W. rally. One of the speakers introduces me as, "The President of the United States AND Nobel Laureate." The crowd eats this up and goes nuts. It's pretty cute.

6:45 pm -- The White House Dining Room

Back home for dinner with Michelle and the girls. I'm kinda pooped, but Michelle starts in with how the U.A.W. speech was on all the networks and my suit looked a little tired and this is why I absolutely must have a new suit for the Prize awards ceremony. She won't let up. Then she starts a new project. I absolutely have to get a tie that will stand out -- something that the world has never seen before -- maybe something that lights up or talks. "Nobody's going to remember your speech at the Nobels," she says, "but if you do it right, nobody will forget your tie." How can I argue with this?

8:00 pm -- Private Quarters

I promised myself I wouldn't watch the O'Reilly Factor, and yet I just couldn't resist "Talking Points." Of course there were plenty of snide comments about the Prize, etc., as I knew there would be. But I'm not as thin-skinned as they say. I'm really not. I can take it. And I love it when O'Reilly tears into Barney Frank. Frank gets all flustered and then O'Reilly cuts him off. It's a hoot. I like Barney, and there's no disputing that Barney's one of the smartest, if not the smartest, members of Congress, but, ahem...he hasn't won a certain little prize, has he?

10:45 pm

I take a call from General Petraeous who has some updates about Iraq. I ask him why he's calling so late and he blames it on the time difference. "Well, it's not such a big time difference between Washington and Oslo," I say. This goes right over his head. Then I say, "They should give a Prize to the guy who invented time zones." it's like I'm talking to a wall. I've really got to have a sit-down with Gibbs.

11:27 pm -- Private Quarters

I googled "Nobel Prize Winners" and scoured the list. Nobody since they started handing them out 100 years ago named Barack or Obama or anything close. Plenty of big names -- ok -- I guess my name isn't exactly in the slouch department, eh? Michelle wants to know what I'm doing on the computer so late. "Research," I say. "Well come to bed," she urges. "you've got that thing in the morning, and I'm having lunch with Maureen Dowd. I wish I could fix her up with somebody." "That's exactly what I was thinking," I said.