The vagina monologues

I keep thinking about John McCain’s VP choice, and with each passing hour I become more and more offended.

Here’s how I see it unfolding:

A. Obama and Hillary loathe one another.

B. Obama picks Joe Biden as VP.

C. McCain desperately wants to grab those dissatisfied Hillary supporters, but doesn’t know how.

D. Steve Schmidt, McCain’s advisor, says, “Here’s a thought. Hillary Clinton and Sarah Palin are very similar.”

E. McCain asks, “Who’s Sarah Palin.”

F. “The governor of Arkansas,” says Schmidt.

G. “No,” injects an assistant. “Alaska.”

E. “Oh, her,” McCain says, “So how are they similar? On global warming”

F. “No,” says Schmidt

G. “On abortion?”

H. “No,” says Schmidt.

I. “On the economy?”

J. “No,” says Schmidt.

K. “I’m confused,” says McCain.

L. “Well,” says Schmidt, “they both have vaginas.”

M. “Ohhhhhh,” says McCain. “That is something.”

And so it is. Think about it. Sarah Palin has literally no viable experience to be president. She was a governor for 18 months, and before that the mayor of a town 1/4 the size of Mahopac, where I grew up. She played high school hoops, was a beauty queen, served on the PTA. I have no reason to believe she’s not a nice person and an able governor of a very small (and unique) state. But John McCain is 72, and a recovering cancer patient. The idea of her stepping in to deal with, oh, Iraq or Iran or China trade issues is, for lack of a better word, laughable.

Had Obama picked Hillary, there is no way—no friggin’ way—McCain makes this choice. He is gambling that women are stupid; that they won’t notice the differences between a pro-choice, pro-universal health care senator like Clinton and a first-term, right-wing governor from Alaska.

I think he’s wrong.