Other than JFK, I cannot think of a politician with more pull on the sexual imagination than Barack Obama. You could argue Bill Clinton, but I think women's attraction to him is tangled in all sorts of psychosexual drama about infidelity and power dynamics. I've always thought Clinton had all the attractiveness of a used-car salesman. Even pretty-boy politicians like John Edwards, with his shellacked hair and prosaic Ken Doll looks, seems clichéd beside Obama.

"I don't understand women," my brother told me, with a sigh. "Obama's ears stick out. He's goofy-looking."

All I know is, if that guy showed up at the door to take out my daughter, I'd fear for the fate of her panties.

Despite the elaborate production of the election season, the debates and the punditry and the endless stump speeches, I suspect that candidates get our votes for other reasons. Which do we like better? Which one would we rather have a beer with? Do you remember that survey? Oh, I raged at the results — who needs to have a goddamn beer with the president? Idiots, I thought. The fate of the country hangs in the balance, and you base your decision on this?

But now I wonder if my voting record is so much more sophisticated. Since that moment at the newstand, I have dived headfirst into the fray. I watched countless debates, both Republican and Democratic. I read the measured critiques of journalists I trust; I listened to the white-noise chatter of talking heads I don't. I listened to Obama's victory speech after Iowa, and I came to a similar conclusion as Toni Morrison, who recently said in her endorsement of Obama that she saw in him "a creative imagination which coupled with brilliance equals wisdom."

A crush? Maybe so. But I'll tell you this much: I'm voting with my heart.  n°