Oct. 31 (Bloomberg) -- After a series of negotiations between aides, the two armies agreed to meet on Oct. 29 in the swing state of Florida near the World of Disney. The event took place before tens of thousands of loyal subjects standing hours in the cold night.

Former President Bill Clinton, who had held out months for a settlement on his terms, was his old effusive self. ``This is America's future,'' he shouted, waving his arm across the crowd. ``Barack Obama represents America's future, and you have to be there for him.''

Recalling that Florida returned to the Democratic fold during his 1996 re-election, Clinton pleaded with the crowd. ``It's time to come back again.''

He could have gone on longer but knew the huge press contingent was waiting to write the headline that The Introducer had held forth longer than The Introduced. Clinton concluded at a respectful 13 minutes, and turned to embrace Obama with what looked like genuine affection.

The man hug has migrated from Hollywood to the starchiest Republicans, where it's more like an exaggerated shoulder bump. This one was full-bodied with the added intimacy perfected by Jon Stewart on ``The Daily Show'' after an interview: Obama leaned in and whispered in Clinton's ear.

With that, the bloodiest conflict of campaign 2008 came to an end.

Disciplined Hillary

It took a while. Hillary Clinton, the less emotional, more disciplined of the pair, made peace in a matter of days and gave a full-throated endorsement of her opponent before 10,000 supporters in Washington. But Bill was too busy. He was in London celebrating Nelson Mandela's birthday. He was preparing for the annual meeting of his Global Initiative. He had crossword puzzles to do.

Now he's empathizing, nodding, smiling in the open-mouthed, dazed way he had when Hillary spoke. At one point, he threw his head back and laughed to ease an awkward lull after Obama mangled a joke. Clinton felt his pain. They were in this thing together.

Even with the rapprochement, we may never know how these two larger-than-life figures really feel. Politicians have to talk themselves into so much that comes at them from the outside, they sometimes don't know their own insides.

Watching the wife of convicted felon Senator Ted Stevens weep softly beside him after his conviction, I know that the unbelievable stories they told the jury -- that the massage chair they kept was on loan for seven years, that the addition to their house cost a scant $160,000, that they hated the Viking grill and all the other gifts lavished on them but couldn't return -- are the ones they tell themselves in private.

Forgiving Obama

The day before their long-awaited joint appearance, Clinton told a close friend he could never forgive Obama's campaign for accusing the so-called first black president of playing the race card when he belittled Obama's win in South Carolina, comparing him to Jesse Jackson. Not great, but an improvement over never forgiving Obama himself.

What also held Clinton back was having to cede the stage to a younger version of himself -- another silver-tongued politician with a bracing intellect and the ability to excite the public. Before their Orlando event, Obama addressed 25,000 people at an outdoor rally in Raleigh, North Carolina, and 40,000 more in a hockey arena in Sunrise, Florida.

He starred in a half-hour made-for-TV movie with paid commercial time on three major broadcast networks, and made jokes on ``The Daily Show.'' Clinton who once kept such a schedule himself, awaited Obama in a heated tent for an hour.

Leaving office is a little like dying. One day the spotlight is shining brightly. Aides hover at your elbow anticipating your every need. Triumphant music hails your arrival. Your schedule is full of people thrilled to meet you whose lives you can change with an executive order. There's a 747 at your beck and call. You have intersection control.

Embracing Intolerance

A similar dark shadow threatened to overtake John McCain. It's part of why he ran a campaign employing the same smear tactics used against him in 2000. Should he lose, the calendar will suddenly be empty, the crowds gone, a Senate seat small consolation. Everyone around is dispirited and depressed. Many are out of work.

To forestall that, his hugs went to those he called ``agents of intolerance'' on the religious right and President George W. Bush, whom he crowed about supporting 90 percent of the time.

At age 72, McCain was looking at his last chance to be the great man he knows he was meant to be. He saw Obama as someone who hadn't learned enough or suffered enough to deserve the honor, yet there he was attracting adoring crowds across several continents, exciting a new generation of voters.

No wonder McCain picked Governor Sarah Palin as his running mate. He had to know she couldn't step into his shoes, even as he saw that she could breathe life into his dying campaign. It got him through the nights even if it doesn't win the day.

(Margaret Carlson, author of ``Anyone Can Grow Up: How George Bush and I Made It to the White House'' and former White House correspondent for Time magazine, is a Bloomberg News columnist. The opinions expressed are her own.)

To contact the writer of this column: Margaret Carlson in Washington at mcarlson3@bloomberg.net

Last Updated: October 31, 2008 00:03 EDT