Like millions of other cube monkeys, the first I heard of John McCain's choice of running mate was the headline 'McCain picks Palin!' flashing across the bottom of my electric connection. I instantly thought, wow, bold move, Mac, wow, Michael Palin! ... and then inevitably remembered, dang, Palin is a Limey, born and raised on the moist island that used to run the world and now gazes enviously at Ireland, he can't be vice president, can he?
Well, no, he can't, but just for a minute let us daydream of a Michael Palin candidacy. It wouldn't be so bad. Engineering background — father worked in steel. Shakespeare buff — once played all the parts at once, an epic feat indicating brilliance or insanity or both. Able writer in various forms, excellent public speaker, comfortable in front of camera.
Understands women — has certainly worn his fair share of dresses over the years. Big animal rights man, especially with deceased parrots. Understands commerce, especially cheese industry. Comfortable with various religious traditions; has played a minister and a Catholic cardinal. Astute student of urban transportation issues. Very well travelled, alert and attentive to cultural differences and humour.
He's fascinated by art and artists — he's even written a play, the one serious flaw in his resume. Reportedly currently working on a documentary about the First World War, the careful study of which should send any sensible soul sprinting toward other ways to solve geopolitical conflicts than dismembering the enemy by the millions. Interested in science — has an asteroid named after him, which is a sentence you hardly ever see.
Attentive to troubled children — founded a centre to help kids who stammer. Seems to be addicted to trains, which is a good sign in a world where more public transportation for less energy cost is rocketing to the top of the project pile.
Best of all, perhaps, about Vice President Michael Palin, if we could get past those pesky citizenship requirements (which are certainly being reviewed by a team of lawyers in the office of the Governor of California) is that he has a sense of humour, of the absurd, of the constant goofiness of life.
Seems to me that a true sense of humour is a real sign of maturity both in individuals and in societies; real humour, after all (I don't mean snarky irony, or the cruel laughing at the travails