Where's the darn dog?

A collapsing economy, a looming recession, wars on two fronts (neither of which is going particularly well), and deadly "hot pursuits" into Syria that could expand these wars in ways unfavorable to America, are the specters haunting Americans as we move towards the presidential election.

So by all means, let's get down and dirty about Alaskan Governor Sarah Palin's clothes.

Note to McCain's advisors:  Next time, buy new duds AND a dog.

Palin's clothes, make-up, hair do's, peek-a-boo shoosies that show off her sexy French pedicures, diction lessons that don't seem to be taking well (given Palin's stream-of-consciousness rhetoric, sing-songy intonation, and persistent mispronunciation of "nuclear"), plus new duds for the First Dude and all their little dudes and dudettes, cost a reported whopping $180,000.00--which is $50,000 more than the average home in my neighborhood.

If politics is truly a dog-and-pony show, then…where's the dog?  A Labrador, a Chihuahua, a mutt from the pound—anything but a pitbull with lipstick would do nicely, and we could focus on real issues.

Instead, we're focused on something that helps the myopic Palin

focus-- the rimless, high-style frames that seem to just float on Palin's perfectly maqillaged face.

"My patients love her glasses!" said my father, an opthamologist whose practice includes a large trailer park of small-town, all-American, fiercely Republican Walmart shoppers.

"Do you know what kind of frames she has?"  I asked him.

"Not yet," my dad replied.  "I looked in our catalog, but I don't see anything like them."

Nor will he.  Palin's much-coveted frames run anything from $350 to $800 a pop, and many of Dad's patients are on welfare plans with limited eyecare options.  Still, they persist in wanting the same stuff Palin has.  And why shouldn't they?

Palin's one of them!  She says so, over and over again.

Want to end the criticism?  Cue the dog!  Or how about the pony?

Democrats John and Jackie Kennedy sagely brought a pony named Macaroni to the White House, offsetting criticism of Jackie's pricey gold sunburst pin-tiaras, "Kenneth" hair-dos and couture wardrobe.

Americans don't have a monarchy, but we still want our King and Queen to look good.  Usually, Republicans have handled the trans-party pillow fights over expensive clothing and jewelry a lot better than the McCain-Palin campaign has done.

Why?  Because they always had a dog around.

Like Checkers.

From the day that then-Vice-President Richard M. Nixon was accused of having an illicit slush fund, through the drama of Nancy Reagan's jewels and designer outfits, and her shocking audacity in buying presidential table china that actually matched, Republicans have defended their right to fashion.  But the dog helps out so very much.

"I should say this," Nixon told the nation in a speech that McCain's speechwriters would do well to study and imitate in the week they have left, "that [my wife] Pat doesn't have a mink coat.  But she does have a respectable Republican cloth coat, and I always tell her she would look good in anything."

Then, to bring the nation remorsefully to its knees, Nixon added: "One other thing I probably should tell you, because if I don't, they will probably be saying this about me, too.  We did get something, a gift, after the election.

"A man down in Texas heard Pat on the radio mention the fact that our two youngsters would like to have a dog, and, believe it or not, the day before we left on this campaign trip we got a message from Union Station in Baltimore, saying they had a package for us. We went down to get it. You know what it was?

"It was a little cocker spaniel dog, in a crate that he had sent all the way from Texas, black and white, spotted, and our little girl Tricia, the six year old, named it Checkers.

"And you know, the kids, like all kids, loved the dog, and I just want to say this, right now, that regardless of what they say about it, we are going to keep it."

After this, there wasn't a dry eye, Democrat or Republican, in the House.  Nixon's presidential election was assured--by a dog.

There's still a week left to create a miracle for McCain.  But Palin's flouncing about in her blue jeans and thrift shop odds and ends like a skinny Barbra Streisand must be stopped.  Will Palin wear jeans to the

G2 summit, one wonders?  Maybe Streisand will lend Palin those transparent bell-bottoms that garnered so much attention when she won her Academy award.  And while Striesand inspired a generation of vintage shoppers, Streisand is…uhm…a democrat.

There's still time.  Dress well, and say you're doing it for the nation.  Then, buy a dog.  Call it "Underdog!"  And let it save the day.

 by Sarah Whalen, a contributing writer to Bayoubuzz.com