Jan. 8 (Bloomberg) -- The Clintons have a steep hill to climb in New Hampshire. Like parents who know better, they have to convince voters that the guy they've fallen in love with isn't good for them.

So far, Bill Clinton is off his game. And Hillary Clinton seems incapable of getting some of the Obama love for herself. She had a chance at Saturday night's debate when asked by ABC television's Charlie Gibson about not being likeable. ``That really hurts my feelings,'' she answered. Then she hammed it up, coyly batting her eyes like Scarlett O'Hara, as if to say she was just pretending to have feelings that could be hurt.

The debate was the last major opportunity for Clinton and Barack Obama to make up for their shortfalls before today's vote in the New Hampshire primary.

Obama needed to tether his lofty promises to the ground, and Clinton needed to keep her head above water and pump some joy back into her campaign. She talks about hope yet still makes a grim case that what America needs is a leader already parboiled by experience who's tough and hardened enough to handle anything the Republican hate machine can spew out.

Neither succeeded on Saturday. Obama continued to serve dessert; Clinton dished up spinach. He still lacks specificity and she still fails to inspire. He can correct his problem with position papers. Hers are more difficult to fix.

They got worse when all of Obama's gauzy talk about hopes and dreams drove Clinton to the most strident moment of the campaign. Governor Bill Richardson said he's seen ``hostage negotiations that were a lot more civil.''

`Reality Break'

``Can we just have a sort of reality break for a minute,'' she interjected at one point. ``Making change is not about what you believe, it's not about a speech you make. It's about working hard...I'm not just running on a promise of change. I'm running on 35 years of change.''

To get the tenor in case you were watching football instead of the debate, substitute the words ``truth'' for ``change,'' Jack Nicholson for Clinton, and a military court martial for the stage at St. Anselm's College. Just as in the movie ``A Few Good Men,'' the truth might be that after campaigning for a year like an incumbent, Clinton just can't handle change. She's no more specific about it than her opponent.

Clinton's uneven performance reflects the campaign's dilemma after the Iowa loss, with New Hampshire upon us and some two-dozen states holding primaries on Feb. 5, ``Tsunami Tuesday.'' Aside from the finger-pointing at chief strategist Mark Penn for running Hillary for Bill's third term, there's the question of whether to go positive or gloomy, optimistic or fretful.

`What About Bill'?

The Clinton playbook of demonizing your adversary doesn't work as well if your adversary is Obama rather than Newt Gingrich, Ken Starr, or the vast right-wing conspiracy.

The dilemma extends to ``What about Bill?'' He's the campaign's one-of-a-kind asset -- a popular former president, brainy, engaging, never more up than when he's down and itching to be out there.

In Hillaryland, there was concern he'd be hard to manage and a little bit rusty, as anyone who's been out of politics for seven years would be. And soft. It's hard to stay in fighting form when you're being hailed around the world as a statesman with bundles of money to give away and surrounded at home by pals like megamogul Ron Burkle, who never fails to chuckle at stories long past their sell-by date.

This worry was heightened by a few headline-making gaffes by the former president, like the quickly corrected claim that president Hillary would send him and former President George H.W. Bush on a goodwill tour.

Inevitable Duds

With three or four events a day, supply may outstrip demand. Bill managed to only half-fill the Bow High School gym for a speech during the weekend. He looked almost as tired as he did standing behind his wife at her concession speech Thursday night, and so did the crowd.

It's not like the old days in New Hampshire, when Clinton would be hoarse from shouting above the crowd at an airport hangar at one in the morning, when standing ovations and chants were routine. True, he doesn't want to overshadow his candidate- wife, but on some occasions it looks like he couldn't if he wanted to.

So what's a candidate to do? With a bunch of reporters at a bar on Sunday, Bill made the problem hers. ``We can't be a new story, I'm sorry. I can't make her younger, taller, male.''

A Good Cry

Well, what if she were to cry?

Yesterday morning, at a café in Portsmouth with 16 undecided, mostly female, voters, Clinton took a softball question and scored at least one new voter. She was asked, ``How do you keep so upbeat and wonderful?'' Clinton first went into robo-call mode, then joked about how hard it is not to be caught on a bad hair day, and then got tears in her eyes.

The election wasn't a ``game'' but very ``personal,'' and she couldn't keep at it if she ``didn't passionately believe'' it was the right thing to do for our kids' futures. ``It's really about all of us together.''

One woman who'd been leaning toward Obama before Clinton got misty eyed, said her emotion ``was the clincher.'' She's back with Clinton.

It occasionally works with speeding tickets. Her wet eyes made headlines with less than 24 hours to go before the polls open. You can hear Penn writing up one of his micromanaging memos, this one titled ``Cry Me a River'' all the way to Feb. 5.

(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: January 8, 2008 00:08 EST