In a time of economic crisis, it’s good to know that our President has his head in the right place. He’s deeply concerned and worried, focused like a laser beam on one problem: his gray hair. This morning, the Obama campaign sent out an email from Obama, headlined “Gray hairs”:

Benjamin —

When I decided to run for president, I had significantly fewer gray hairs than I do today.

Michelle says I’ve earned them, which is the nicest possible way to say I’m getting older.

In fact, I’m turning 51 in a couple weeks, and to celebrate I’m heading home to Chicago for a get-together at my house.

I’d love for you to be one of my guests.

Donate $3 or whatever you can to support the campaign, and you’ll be automatically entered to join me at home in Chicago — flight and hotel covered for you and a guest of your choice.

Chicago is where I fell in love with my wife and where our daughters were born. It’s where decades ago I first started as a community organizer and where, six years ago, I first talked with Michelle about the possibility of running for president.

I’m looking forward to spending a few hours celebrating there before it’s all systems go for the final weeks of the election.

Should be fun.

Thanks for all your support so far. If you can, enter today for a chance to join me and some friends at my house in Chicago, and I can thank you in person:

https://donate.barackobama.com/My-Birthday

Hope to see you soon,

Barack

Somebody needs to buy Obama some Just For Men. Every other email from the Obama campaign notes Obama’s aging dome, and suggests that he’s some sort of victim because his hair is no longer black. Soon, no doubt, Morgan Freeman will step up to say that Obama’s hair isn’t black enough. Guess what, Mr. President: by the time most men are 51, their hair is getting gray. And we’re all going prematurely gray trying to pay our mortgages under your administration. So try crying to your barber.

And, once again, we get an invite to President Obama’s birthday party. Not a real invite, mind you – an invitation for you to send him money so that he won’t have to invite you. Just send the check, and he’ll be more than happy to cash it. But if – dream of dreams! – we win, then we can all look forward to a party so cool we’ll be jealous of ourselves.

Could this campaign possibly get more self-indulgent?