Let me finish tonight with the big debate coming up on Tuesday. 

A real preview of coming attractions would tell you the power of the issues at stake, the huge issues to be decided in an hour and a half.

But there's this other thing: the personal.  

Will the president come out Tuesday night to charge up the differences between him and Governor Romney? Will he paint those differences as vital. Whether we commence another war in the Mideast? Whether we begin to kill not just Obama-care but begin killing medicare? To commence a state-by-state ban of abortion? To deliver huge new shipments of money in the form of tax cuts to the country's wealthy? 

It's important that the president do this for the basic reason that people in this country know what they're voting for, and, if they decide, against.

Let me finish tonight with dirt. Old fashioned dirt. 

If you can't beat someone cleanly, spread the dirt. Does anyone believe this is anything but a weapon?

Dirt is not a reason to vote for or against a candidate. No. The person slinging the dirt always has his reason. It's why you're out there throwing that dirt in the first place.

Exhibit A: Donald Trump. Does anyone believe that Donald Trump was ready to vote for President Obama before he came up with this thing about the President being some kind of illegal immigrant, someone who's mother cooked up some elaborate, wild scheme to have her son born in Africa so that he could be someday elected president? 

No, Trump declared personal war on the President for all his own personal reasons, and then went to work pushing this nonsense, this "birther-ism" out there to the lesser minds, those impressed by Trump's money and swag, who follow his lead like the mobs in a comic book following some villain in Batman. You know, the Joker! 

Does anyone think that the great Jack Welch, who proved his brains leading General Electric, the most successful industrial company in history, decided he didn't like Obama last Friday morning between 8:30 and 8:35 a.m. eastern daylight time, between the times the lower 7.8 percent jobless rate came out from the Labor Department and when Welch tweeted his attack? Don't bet on it.

No, these people are out there pushing "birther-ism" or this jobs theory because they want to throw some dirt on the guy, want to hurt him and skim some votes from him. It's not good for our politics, not good for our country—and people who have it so good in this country—shouldn't be doing it. It's just wrong and people with brains and consciences know it is.

Let me finish tonight with this: it's what you do with what you've got.   

Question: Would President Obama be better off if he'd won last week's debate, but then had the jobless rate spike up three-tenths of a point to 8.5? Or is he better off for having lost last week's first debate but seen the jobless rate drop down below 8 percent, down to 7.8 percent?

A political pro will say: go with what you got. You got a bad break on the debate but a great break on the jobless rate. Sell it! Get out there and hit the bricks, buddy. Let the other side talk up last Wednesday night. You get out there and sell what we all got Friday morning.  

Reagan got elected with a sun-blazing "morning in america" with a 7.2 percent number. You ought to be able to get soundly re-elected with 7.8 percent. He won 525 electoral votes. All you need to do is get about a bit more than half that: 270. 

So it may not be time for a "got it made" attitude like we had before the first debate, but it's a very good time for some sound, solid, professional confidence that by taking the right steps now, going full bore on what you have to sell, you will win this thing.

Let me finish tonight with the real choice in this coming election.

One's a Democrat; the other's a Republican.

One, President Obama, opposed the war in Iraq; the other, Mitt Romney, supported it, just as he protested "in favor" of the Vietnam War, even as he decided not to participate in it. 

One, President Obama, opposed the economic policies of George W. Bush; the other, Mitt Romney, ate them up.

One, President Obama, supports a woman's right to decide on something as personal and intimate as reproductive rights; the other, Romney, wants the government to rule against it in every case. He's the one who wants to regulate people's lives.

One, President Obama, wants the states, not the federal government, to decide on same-sex marriage; the other, Romney, wants a federal law kept in place to keep that decision out of state hands, keep same-sex marriage banned entirely and for all time. 

One, President Obama, stepped up and rescued the American auto industry; the other, Mitt Romney, said to let it "go bankrupt."

One said to make sure under the law that women get equal pay for equal work; the other heads a party that voted down the line against it. 

One saw 40 million uninsured Americans sitting it out in the emergency rooms of hospitals across the country; the other did, too, and says, even today to let them sit.

Let me finish tonight with this.

The campaign for president is getting truly exciting. At last week's debate, Romney showed his willingness to say whatever would get him through the night. He can 'Etch-A-Sketch' in real time, shifting his positions, denying the deals he's made with the right, positioning himself just where it works with the voter.

It reminds me of Bill Murray's character in Groundhog Day. Every day, he gets up to the same day. Every day, he comes up with a new pitch to Andie MacDowell based on what she said about her likes and dislikes the day before. 

This is the Romney approach: sell whatever people show a willingness to buy. Sell a big cut in Medicare and sell it as a cut in government spending. If that causes trouble, say you're against any cuts in Medicare.  

Get it? Sell big tax cuts to the "job creators," those in the country with the most money. If that causes trouble, just deny it. Say you don't know anything about tax cuts for the rich. Pretend you never said a word about giving a break to those "job-creators."

Get it? Say you want the auto industry to go bankrupt. Say when they're not looking that you don't care about that 47 percent of the country that depends on programs like Social Security. Then, when that 47 percent is watching you on television, say your heart is bleeding for them.

That's right. Just like in Groundhog Day, you keep listening to the one you're trying to woo, listening for clues of what doesn't work, what in your pitch isn't selling, make the changes overnight and come back with a new, improved version of just what she—or he—wants to hear. 

So the clock radio keeps going off. We keep hearing Sonny and Cher sing "I've got you" and Mitt Romney keeps honing his latest pick-up line.

Let me finish tonight with this: let's look at this great jobs number. It's great news for the country. 

Now let's listen to the people fighting it. I guess they don't like good news. Wonder why? Could it be they prefer bad news?

What a time it is to know where people stand.

Let me finish tonight with last night's disaster.

You get nowhere in life by not realizing what's done is done.

President Obama was not prepared for his huge debate with Governor Romney. This isn't about left, right, good, or bad. It's about coming to work to work.

His challenger did. He took charge. He took command of that stage, issuing orders to moderator and rival alike. He owned that platform, owned all within the sound of his voice. It was impressive, powerful.  It must have been horrible to feel the smothering, all-enveloping sufficiency of the thing. With Romney in the room, there didn't need to be anyone else. 

So I'm not here to slam Obama for a hard night. My concern—and that's what it is—is his readiness to skip the politics of this campaign. There's no excuse for a democratic leader to think himself excused from politics—and today that means mastering the 24-hour back and forth, the war room stuff that gets you elected, protects you from being destroyed either on the way to public office or once there.

Simple question: Did the President know he was allowed to mention—in fact, champion—his saving of the American auto industry? Did he know he was allowed last night to interrupt that pissant conversation about PBS funding to say, "Excuse me, let's talk the big stuff. I rescued the American auto industry and the hundreds of thousands of jobs working for it. You, sir, were willing to have it go bankrupt."  

Did Obama know he could interrupt his rivals expressions of concern for Social Security folk with the news that his rival tells his wealthy backers behind closed doors something very different: how he sees people who rely on Social Security as parasites.  

Did Obama know he could interrupt Romney's weeping for Medicare with a timely reminder that he, the man standing there with him, wants to give 80 year-olds "vouchers" and send them out to fetch a health insurance policy. Who's going to give them that? Old age and being elderly is no time to hit the health insurance market. It's a time of life when you should reap the just benefit of having paid into Medicare your entire working life, not some terrifying moment of "every man and woman for themselves."

One last pair of questions: Did the president know that Mitt Romney just said that we don't let people die in their apartments; we take them to the emergency room, that that is his health care plan. Did the president know that Romney had said that people who didn't have continuing coverage shouldn't get covered for pre-existing conditions, that it was simply their fault for not having paid up all those years?

Well, the whole thing could have gone a whole other way.

Let me finish with what I want you all to look for tonight.

Look for motive. Why's he out there? What's he really want to do as president? And who for? Why does he think he should be president at this time in our history? 

Look for passion. What turns this guy on? America? The idea behind this country? The chance to help people deal with their really hard challenges? 

What makes this guy laugh, makes him cry, makes him give a damn? Beneath the nice suit, the tie and the shined shoes, what soul lies there? What spirit? What's the music to the man?

Finally, maybe the easiest to catch, the hardest to forge: spontaneity. Okay, the lights are on...is anybody home? Does this person react to the moment? Does he come alive when faced with a challenge, a question he hadn't expected? Does he like this arena of the mind? And through it does he love the challenge of serving and leading his country? 

If he has it all—motive, passion, spontaneity—stop looking for a president; you've found one. 

Let me finish tonight with this. 

Jack Kennedy was deadly serious about his four Great Debates with Richard Nixon. A week before the first, he arranged a secret meeting with CBS's Don Hewitt, who he knew would be directing the broadcast. Kennedy wanted a heads-up on the setup at the network's WBBM studio in Chicago. 

"Where do I stand?" he asked Hewitt, trying to get straight on his positioning the big night, the feel of the whole thing.  

When Kennedy and Nixon arrived at the Chicago studio the night of the debate, the Democrat grabbed another edge. He knew that his rival had just many days in the hospital nursing an infected leg wound. Now he could see how awful Nixon looked. This triggered the historic battle of the makeup.

Kennedy had just been campaigning in California and, as always, had worked on his tan. When Hewitt asked if he wanted makeup, he turned it down peremptorily. Nixon, always trying to match the guy he'd come to Congress with just after World War II, also declined.  

Bill Wilson, who was serving as Jack Kennedy's media adviser described what came next:

"Ted Rogers, who was Nixon's guy, said, 'When's your guy to get makeup on?' and I said, 'Well, after your guy's going to get it.' Rogers was wary. If the other guy didn't ask for it, his guy wasn't going to. 'Nixon's not going to get his makeup,' he said, 'until John Kennedy does.' And I said, 'Well, it looks like it's a Mexican standoff." 

That's how it happened. When he got Kennedy alone in his greenroom, Wilson put makeup on him. All Nixon's guy did was run down Michigan Avenue to a drugstore and get a product called Lazy Shave, otherwise known as "beard stick."  

Hewitt saw the problem the second he set eyes on the two candidates. He called Frank Stanton, the head of CBS News, into the control room to see the stark difference in the two candidates' appearance. Stanton then called Ted Rogers, who said he was satisfied with the way Nixon looked.  

But that's not the way the rest of the country saw it that night, especially after Nixon began sweating through that "beard stick." 

A week and a half later, the evening of the second Great Debate had arrived. This time the venue was the NBC studios in Washington, where we produce Hardball.

Bill Wilson arrived with the Kennedy brothers to discover something was up. Someone had set the temperature in the studio practically to freezing. It felt like a meat locker.  

"What the hell is this?" Jack wanted to know. Bobby darted to the control room. Wilson himself remembers racing down to the basement, looking for the air-conditioning unit:

"There was a guy standing there that Ted Rogers had put there, and he said don't let anybody change this. I said, 'Get out of my way or I'm going to call the police.' He immediately left and I changed the air-conditioning back.   

Wilson understood the game and how it was being played. The candidates had their jobs to do; so did the handlers. "Ted wanted to keep his job because of the screw-up in the first debate." 

This is what goes on in politics!

Let me finish tonight with this incredibly exciting debate coming up the night after tomorrow.

I know from experience how many of us watch these debates. We watch them with people of similar mind and decide that our guy won. We then cry out in utter surprise when we hear people saying the other guy did. 

I remember how the speechwriters for President Carter watched his debate with Ronald Reagan, and we were all together on the fact Carter had won it.  

So few of us will know who "won" Wednesday night 'til we watch the shows, listen for the focus groups—we'll have one here at midnight—and see how it's going.  

And don't think that's going to be the last word. Back in 2000, the establishment people all agreed that Al Gore had beaten George W. in their third debate. Go back and look at the bites from that debate and you'll laugh that anyone could say that. Why? Because it wasn't a test of who knew the most, but of who came off as a self-confident leader and, what we call in politics, "the genuine article." 

It's not exactly fair, this debate business. Richard Nixon had to stand on the same stage with matinee idol Jack Kennedy. Reagan never did say what he would have done to spring the hostages. George Bush senior had to fight a two-front war with Bill Clinton—tough enough, wouldn't you say—but against a pesky Ross Perot as well. John McCain had to defend an economy falling all around him.   

But by the time we get back here on Thursday, it's going to matter—and no one knows how. It's one of the reasons I've been caught up in politics since I can remember: because you really don't know how the battle's going to go.

Let me finish tonight with next week's first debate in Denver.

I'll be out there to watch the two of them go at it. I have no real idea what to expect. I think Romney will take some hard shots; he may spend the whole 90 minutes blasting away at the President, serving him with one indictment after another, hoping that something will stick. 

I think Obama will play with him, parry the assaults, block the blows, try to keep his head clear so he can avoid getting hurt. I think it will start slow with both men trying to be cautious, neither able to land a punch, not hard enough to register with the tens of millions watching.  

Then it will happen: Romney will deliver what is clearly a pre-rehearsed moment, a sound byte. It will be something about Obama not delivering on a promise, something about the economy he said he'd do but hasn't. He will expect the President to defend himself.  

When he does, pointing to what he inherited from Bush, Romney will pounce. He'll say that Obama's not running against Bush. This will be the Romney strategy: get Obama to pass the buck on the tough economic recovery and then land his Sunday punch.

I suppose President Obama knows this is all coming and is preparing to deal with it. The good news is this: a month ago, all his rival had to so was say that Obama's done his best—he got his stimulus, got his healthcare program...and here we are. I think that might have nailed it—a month ago. 

Something's changed. It could have been something as definite as Bill Clinton's speech but people don't feel stuck like they did, don't think all we need is some other president—and that's Romney's problem, and it's a big one.

Let me finish with the real-life consequence of this bad voter photo law in Pennsylvania.  

My high school English teacher, Gerald Tremblay, has been caring for his wife these recent years. She suffered a serious stroke and has been unable to get out and about. She can no longer drive a car and therefore has no driver's license. Unable to travel, she has no up-to-date passport.  

But she is fully alert and very much alive intellectually. Thanks to her husband, she keeps up with the news. He holds the newspapers up for her to read, and she's very eager to vote this year. 

Therein lies the problem, this "new" problem. The new Pennsylvania law, pushed through by Republicans in the legislature, requires that to get an absentee ballot which is needed in this case, you need to produce a government-issued photo ID.  

Think about the obstacles this presents here. Mr. Tremblay would have to take his wife to the PennDot headquarters—his wife being a serious stroke victim—simply to get the ID card that the new law now requires.  

Now we have no idea if this is the kind of person the GOP lawmakers in Harrisburg were out to keep from voting. What we do know is the predicament they've created for her, a consequence of their slick move to, in the words of the top Republican in the Pennsylvania legislature, deliver the commonwealth's electoral votes to Romney. 

I would think this case is a good example of why justice requires action by the courts to stop this unfair new law from taking effect barely a month from now.  

What I didn't say is that Gerald Tremblay is the greatest teacher I ever had, anyone ever had. If he's as good a caregiver as he was a teacher, God's in his heaven, all's right with the world.  

But this law needs to be changed now so that his wife can cast her ballot like every other registered Pennsylvania voter.