My Sarah Palin Story

More than one blog today has a post about US News magazine's poll asking, "Who'd run the best daycare?"--Michelle Obama, Hillary Clinton, Nancy Pelosi or Sarah Palin? What the hell, as Digby says. I'm sure the writer of this nonsense, and his/her editors, thought it was just howl-arious. I don't have the heart to go to the actual US News website because I'm certain Sarah Palin is "winning," whatever that means.
In the 2008 presidential campaign when John McCain chose Sarah Palin, I truly had some moments of panic. His announcement took all the attention away from the Democratic convention and Obama's awesome acceptance speech. Briefly, it looked like McCain scored a real coup. That was until Sarah Palin opened her mouth, and one scandal after another tumbled out of Alaska and into the national news. Once Katie Couric got hold of Sarah Palin, that was that.
As her appearances turned increasingly nasty and aroused the primitive hatred of blacks among her white fans--and John McCain did and said nothing--I was fearful for Obama and for our nation.
At the height of the hysteria, just before the election, Sarah Palin paid a visit to Jefferson City, Missouri, where I work. She was scheduled to speak in the morning at the Capitol steps. With Matt Blunt in the waning days of his pathetic administration, that was no surprise, although it was "in my face" that this majestic, historic building would be used for something so ugly.
It bothered me that she'd be live, in person, spreading her hideous lies and making her not-so-subtle racist comments precisely one and a half blocks from my office.
I was already agitated as I walked from the parking garage to my office door. Seeing the crowds of mostly older couples and women, the majority dressed in red, white and blue, streaming toward the Capitol, really distressed me. My colleagues invited me to go hear the speech, "just for the heck of it," but I couldn't face the spectacle. I didn't want to hear her, see her, be anywhere near her so I stayed behind and seethed in my office. It upset me enough that she was in my city, on my street, unleashing her un-American nastiness. There are only a couple of times I can recall when I was disturbed like that, experiencing a physical reaction and emotional irrationality: when Bill Clinton was impeached, and when the Supreme Court annointed George Bush.
After a while my colleagues returned and said I didn't miss much. I knew that all along.