Yes, I’m in love with Sarah Palin. It’s hard to explain. I’m not one to fall in love. Lord knows I’ve dogged the Obama-heads who stumble over themselves looking for reasons to explain what Hope and Change and Cook County have in common. But now I’m the one smitten … and the cynic in me knows that is exactly what this is: infatuation.

She’s still a politician, at least that’s what I keep reminding myself. “Mike,” I ask myself,  “what are doing getting excited about someone who’s job it is to get you excited? You’re playing right into their hands!” But the romantic in me say, “No Mike, this time is different. This time is real.”

“What are you fifteen, you wuss!” … So says my better half.

Ah Sarah. I love the way you smile when you attack Obama. I think you actually like it, don’t you. You can pretend all you want that you are doing this for the country and for John McCain, but your glasses can’t hide the glimmer in your eye when you say:

“When that happens, what exactly is our opponent’s plan? What does he actually seek to accomplish after he’s done turning back the waters and healing the planet?”

Now, they say you’re into banning books and pushing pork projects when they help your community. But that can’t be true. Can it?