Seems to me that Obama took the high road by not insisting he be given a shovel.

Clearly, there was a failure to communicate, but I think that when one of the parties involved is the president, protocol should dictate that he at least be in the loop on who's doing what.

I'm sure it will be spun as some kind of I'm-too-important-to-get-my-hands-dirty moment, but that is, in my opinion, not consistent with the actual events as I understand them.

As for the singing, that's kind of a "so what?" moment for me - so he can sing, that's great, and it's kind of nice to see him loosen up a bit, but I don't think there's any hidden meaning to it at all.  

Who can resist such posts as:

*It's legitimately cool and chills-making to get married in a place where your great-grandmother once, upon landing via boat in the United States from Glasgow in 1912, found her first employment. But it's also so typical Times that it's THE PLAZA.

or this:

I know people who have done it on couches, in airplanes, and on top of mountains. They've done it behind closed doors and in front of crowds of thousands. When they do it wrong they're humiliated, but a good performance will yield a yes, YES, YES! And, apparently, there are people willing to pay hundreds and even thousands of dollars to do it with a hired professional.

That's right. According to the New York Times, there's a new cog in the matrimonial machine: "a group of consultants called proposal planners, who advise men, and sometimes women, who want to propose but are flummoxed about how to go about asking this life-altering question memorably."

Have a cool seven grand lying around even after you've paid two months' salary on a ring? Then you can have a proposal scenario like the one Sarah Pease helped one man organize.

Ms. Pease recommended Belleville, a Brooklyn bistro where Mr. Fowkes made his pitch -- successfully -- in a room decorated with a chandelier and a wrought-iron arch, as four singers did a rendition of "Marry Me" by Train.

In addition to Ms. Pease's $2,000 fee, Mr. Fowkes paid $5,000 for the vendors, including the rental of an elegant 1932 Hupmobile.

I know nothing about cars and at first thought that said "Humpmobile," by the way, which was amazing enough that it almost would have made up for the Train.