They've been up all night, basking in the glow of Gov. Sarah Palin's speech and pinching themselves silly.
The GOP discovered the cure for its long-denied Obama-envy in a young conservative star with an almost messianic ability to attract, communicate and inspire. In a single evening, Gov. Palin leveled the political playing field.
Well, maybe.
Taking a critical look at Gov. Palin's performance, in context, diminishes neither its excellence nor its significance. As citizens, in fact, it's our responsibility to scrutinize the deeds and words of those who aspire to our nation's highest office.
For months now, Republicans and opposition Democrats have been dismissive of Sen. Barack Obama's charisma and oratory. He gives a good speech, they say. After last night, and until we learn more, Gov. Palin can just as easily be dismissed. Well, she gives a good speech.So much for that talking point.
Her ability to energize a partisan hall also shouldn't be mistaken for mass appeal, at least not until she proves it on the campaign trail. Centrists and teetering Democrats are crucial to Sen. John McCain's chances in November, but cheers at the Republican National Convention don't demonstrate that she can reach beyond the party's base.
That isn't to say she won't, simply that this one speech doesn't prove that she can.
Since Sen. McCain announced his choice of Gov. Palin a week ago, much has been made of the media's persistent search for actual substance about an admittedly unknown quantity -- which is exactly what I want a free press to do. An army of well-paid surrogates have cried unfair and even sexist, but so far they've avoided answering what I consider perfectly reasonable questions.
Personally, I want the press to keep pressing. Gov. Palin's speech, rousing as it was, answered virtually none of my substantive questions. Eventually she'll have to come out from behind the teleprompter and meet the media head-on, and that's when I expect to learn something useful.
Radical as it may sound, I want to cast an informed vote, not merely an inspired one.
Stepping back from critiquing Gov. Palin for a moment, it's worth noting that three of the four candidates on the major parties' tickets -- Sen. Obama, Sen. Joe Biden and Gov. Palin -- came from relatively humble roots. Only Sen. McCain, born into an elite military family, had anything resembling a head-start in life, but his sacrifice as a prisoner-of-war pulls him back toward the simple hearts and mean circumstances of many Americans.
So each of these candidates is, in some way, emotionally and ideologically accessible to ordinary citizens. A bond of identity can be forged with any of them, and most voters will decide based on which bond feels strongest.
More than anything else, that's what Gov. Palin's speech accomplished -- it gave her an identity within reach of the American voter. In that way, she definitely leveled the playing field.
Ultimately, it was a great night for her and a great night for the Republican Party. And we got our drama.
Game on.
Hey, chum!
Yesterday's session of the Republican Convention reminded me of a Gallagher act -- with one difference.
Gallagher fans wear ponchos; these Republicans wallowed gleefully in everything thrown from the stage.
Don't get me wrong here -- I know that red-meat rhetoric and sixth-grade sarcasm are the stock-in-trade of party conventions. Former Massachusetts Gov. Mitt Romney did his part, albeit without any particular skill or resonance. Former New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani, on the other hand, proved once again that he's a master of the art.
Mayor Giuliani crossed a line, however, and later, so did Gov. Palin. I fully expect Republicans to question Sen. Obama's experience, but I expect them to do it without childishly belittling "community organizers" -- this from the party that abhors "big government" and encourages the concept of citizen-servants.
In mocking community organizers, Republicans mocked themselves. It wasn't just unbecoming -- it was arrogant and insulting.
Unexpected debut
When Sen. McCain arrived in Minnesota yesterday afternoon, he was greeted on the tarmac by the entire Palin clan -- including its newest member, 18-year-old Levi Johnston, reportedly the father of Bristol Palin's unborn child. Sen. McCain lingered with the couple for a few moments, no doubt saying, "Hang in there" at some point.
It was an interesting decision, both by the family and by the campaign, to bring the young Mr. Johnston into the light. Parading him within the cameras' view doesn't completely negate "private family matter," but it sure does strain the argument.
An invitation
To former Arkansas Gov. Mike Huckabee: If you drink beer, I'd like to have one with you -- as long as we don't have to say grace first.
I'll close this post with a touching story that Gov. Huckabee wove into his speech last night.
On the first day of school in 2005, Martha Cothren, a teacher at Joe T. Robinson High School in Little Rock, was determined that her students would not take their education or their privilege as Americans for granted. With the principal's permission, she removed all the desks from her classroom.
The students entered the empty room and asked, "Mrs. Cothren, where are our desks?"
"You get a desk when you tell me how you earn it," she replied.
"Making good grades?" asked one student.
"You ought to make good grades, but that won't get you a desk," Martha responded.
"I guess we have to behave," offered another.
"You will behave in my class," Mrs. Cothren retorted, "but that won't get you a desk, either."
No one in first period guessed right. Same for second period.
By lunch, the buzz was all over campus...Mrs. Cothren had flipped out...wouldn't let her students have a desk. Kids had used their cell phones and called their parents.
By early afternoon, all four of the local network TV affiliates had camera crews at the school to report on the teacher who wouldn't let her students have a desk unless they could tell her how they earned it. By the final period, no one had guessed correctly.
As the students filed in, Martha Cothren said, "Well, I didn't think you would figure it out, so I'll have to tell you."
Martha opened the door of her classroom. In walked 27 veterans, some wearing uniforms from years gone by, but each one carrying a school desk.
As they carefully and quietly arranged the desks in neat rows, Martha said, "You don't have to earn your desks. These guys already did.
"They went halfway around the world, giving up their education and interrupting their careers and families so you could have the freedom you have.
"No one charged you for your desk. But it wasn't really free. These guys bought it for you. And I hope you never forget it."
