NYT Tries to Humanize Hillary with Life Changing ‘Road Trip’ Fluff

The set up sounds like some awful made-for-cable, coming of age movie. Follow an awkward but plucky female lawyer as she forsakes her career to follow her heart into the deepest reachest of Arkansas to be with the man she loves.

It is really a rather obvious attempt at making a ruthlessly dishonest, power hungry fembot seem warm and fuzzy, the kind of uncritical drivel one expects from the New York Times reporting on a Democrat.

In the summer of 1974, Hillary Rodham went on a road trip, chasing love and a new life. https://t.co/JdSg0htqLC

— Amy Chozick (@amychozick) October 30, 2016

(That photo was apparently taken during Hillary’s Carmen Sandiego phase.)

Hillary Rodham gazed out the window of the beat-up ’68 Buick rolling down Interstate 81, and saw spruce trees, the Blue Ridge Mountains and the life she’d left behind.

Ms. Rodham, then a 26-year-old lawyer, had just finished working on the Watergate committee and wanted to be with her boyfriend, Bill Clinton, who was teaching law in Arkansas.

Bill was probably nailing a female student or three the whole time Hillary was schlepping it down I-81 listening to her “landlord” Sara Ehrman try to talk her out of moving to Arkansas.

“We’d drive along and I’d say, ‘Hillary, for God’s sake,’ ” Mrs. Ehrman, now 97, recalled. “He’ll just be a country lawyer down there.”

Their journey had some of the ingredients of a classic American road trip — a cheap motel, tchotchke purchases, encounters with drunken strangers and deeply personal conversations. Mrs. Ehrman, a strong-minded career woman who had scrapped her way to becoming a senior congressional aide years before the feminist movement of the 1960s, believed Ms. Rodham could do anything — and could not believe that she was shelving her promising career for an uncertain future at Bill Clinton’s side in Fayetteville, Ark.

Hillary had failed the DC bar exam and she didn’t exactly make a good impression on her bosses on the Watergate committee, so Ehrman may not have known all the details. The road trip story itself sounds like Thelma and Louise, except four decades later the whole country gets driven off the cliff.

But each time Mrs. Ehrman would raise the issue, Ms. Rodham would politely respond: “I love him, and I want to be with him.”

I love him, I love him, I love him. And where he goes I’ll follow, I’ll follow, I’ll follow. 

This is the same Hillary who years later engaged her folksy southern personality subroutine to say, “I’m not sitting here some little woman standing by my man like Tammy Wynette,” on 60 Minutes while she basically explained to the country that her husband’s infidelities would not deter her from riding his coattails to the power she so richly deserved.

She weren’t no ways tired then either. After all these years that clip is no less cringe-worthy.

These two paragraphs capture the northeastern liberal elite’s disdain for “flyover country”—AKA most of America—better than perhaps anything I’ve read in recent memory.

“I said to her, ‘Hillary, you’re never going to get French bread here. You’re never going to get Brie,’ ” she recalled in a final plea, but by then Mrs. Clinton had made up her mind. “She wasn’t even listening to me at that point,” Mrs. Ehrman said.

They arrived in Fayetteville, home of the University of Arkansas, on one of the rowdiest weekends of the year. The hilltop town, with its canopy of oak trees, had become a swarm of drunken football fans, their faces painted red and their heads covered with hats shaped like the university’s hog mascot. The Razorbacks were playing a major rival at the time, the Longhorns of the University of Texas.

“It was then that I broke down and cried when I thought, ‘She’s going to live here?’ ” Mrs. Ehrman said. “I just cried. I just absolutely cried.”

No French bread…or Brie? College sports fans? Dante himself was too squeamish to even mention such a circle of Hell.

The final two paragraphs are a clinic on how to shoehorn a quote into the romantic fantasy you’ve just invented.

The passage of time has deepened Mrs. Ehrman’s understanding of the love-struck young lawyer who stared out the Buick window.

“Hillary is a very practical, pragmatic person,” Mrs. Ehrman said. “She wanted to be with him, but she also saw a future for him and herself.”

I think the only one love-struck is the writer of the article.

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