As the post-World War I song asks, "How you gonna keep 'em down on the farm when they've seen Paree?" Sarah Palin has given in to the inevitable weakness of virtually all politicians who start out as populists. She's gone elite.
Sure, she campaigned mightily for vice president against the "Washington elite," sneering they're selfish, snobbish, not part of what she called the "real America," and certainly contradicting her life as a moose-shooting hockey mom who dresses in consignment and thrift clothing and mingles with plain folks.
That was then. Now is now.
Gov. Palin told reporters in Alaska she'll attend the annual black-tie dinner of Washington's Alfalfa Club and further says she'll be chatting it up with President Obama there. (Her Alaska office denied that was true, despite her on-camera chat with reporters.)
In one fell swoop, Palin has utterly shattered her vice presidential campaign image. If she does show for the dinner, she'll hobnob with the most elite of the Capital's upper crust. And she'll be cozy with the man she accused of "palling around with terrorists" and being a "socialist."
What's turned her head? Expensive haute-couture designer fashions bought by the GOP for her campaign, starring on Saturday Night Live and a multi-million-dollar book deal in the works have sweetened her taste for the elite life. Plus the life of political bluebloods must look a lot better than the backwoods of Alaska.
Hello, Washington. Goodbye, Wasilla.