I may have mentioned Ms. Sarah Palin around here once or twice--the population of Alaska just isn't that large so when one of us hits the Big Time the rest of us finally have something to talk about. I started out as a fan, was cautiously optimistic of her possibilities as a vice president, but it wasn't too long after the campaign that my feelings for America's most famous Russia-sighting-hockey mom soured.
Call me fickle, call me unrealistic, but I kind of figured she'd stick around and finish her job here instead of abandoning us for the likes of Bill O'Riled and Pox News. Maybe I've got a bit of the scorned-lover syndrome but it ticked me off that she used Alaska and her mad moose-hunting skills to get people's attention then dumped us once she got a taste of the good stuff. And for the record the way she talks is NOT an Alaskan accent. We don't have accents, thank you very little.
My husband laughs when I tell him this and asks me what my problem is--after all, when she scurried out of the governor's mansion it left us Sean Parnell as a replacement who is actually a much better executive, and one with a less volatile relationship with the press and legislature so it's been a win-win situation for we hicks who are still stuck feeding chickens back at the ranch but still . . . I'm irritated at her and not a little bitter over the whole breakup thing.
So I no longer find myself on Team Palin. And please don't call her "Governor" Palin because, darn it, she's not anymore--remember? She quit. Because after all, if I recall correctly the biggest gripe against her as vice-president was her lack of experience so it makes perfect sense that she'd abandon the only job that would have actually made up for her shortcoming and given her more political clout and wisdom. Ugh. I'll stop there . . .
But my husband disagrees with me and it's caused some friction. He firmly dislikes Obama (not that I myself am sporting one of his bumper stickers or anything) and has promised to hold his breath unless the man resigns so naturally Andrew gravitates toward the only visible Republican alternative. Which deeply disturbs me and has led me to ask on more than one occasion, "Who are you? Because I don't feel like I even know you anymore!"
"How can you like her? She a flake!" I've been known to say. Sometimes repeatedly. Because if you can't convince them with brilliant rhetoric and deep political discourse go for the easy kill and call your opponent an idiot.
"How can you stand Obama? He's evil incarnate!" He might have replied. Or hissed.
And round it goes. I think the last time we clashed over the issue we realized that if we wanted to salvage our marriage we'd need to find some common ground so he very nobly admitted that it seemed as if Obama could possibly be a halfway decent family man and I conceded that time might prove Sarah to be only a partial extremist-whacked-out-nut job with guacamole for brains. Just as Brittney Spears might run for office herself some day. It was big of me.
So I think we're making progress. And yesterday at lunch my dear husband and I were calmly and rationally discussing our former governor over the phone and in the course of the conversation one of us mentioned her new book: Going Rogue and the conversation went something like this:
"You know," he said thoughtfully, "being a rogue really isn't that great."
I considered the word a moment before saying, "Yea, I guess you're right."
"I mean," he continued, "if you look it up in the dictionary [which he straightway did] it says:
1. Rogue: a dishonest or unprincipled man.And after a pause he concluded with "Rogue. Hmmm. . . "
2. An elephant or other large animal driven away or living apart from the herd and having savage or destructive capabilities.
3. A person or thing that behaves in a faulty, aberrant or unpredictable way. An inferior or defective specimen among many satisfactory ones.
"You're kidding," I said, "That's the dictionary definition? Does the woman even read?"
There was silence on the line for a moment as we had little response to that revelation. What can you say? Because apparently our dear former governor likes to think of herself as either a male crook or as a savage elephant, quarantined from the rest of normal humanity, who needs to be sedated because she's trampling people to death with her unpredictable and savage ways.
Then we laughed hard because really, that's just poetry I tell you.
I think our marriage will survive politics. Irony like that is worth its weight in gold.
* And you know I'm kidding quite a bit here, right? I mean I don't care for Palin and Andrew doesn't like Obama but I'm playing it all up a bit though this was in fact an actual conversation we had.
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