Not since its famous alumnus Bill Clinton launched his bid for the presidency nearly two decades ago has an American politician been the subject of so much curiosity among faculty and students of England’s Oxford University.
Whereas one week ago we might have been referring to Barack Obama, it is now the incredibly unlikely persona of political newcomer Sarah Palin on the minds and lips of the world’s leading thinkers and scholars.
While most so-called "working journalists" were holed up in Minneapolis-St. Paul to witness the Republican Party nominate its surprise ticket to the White House, yours truly was ducking into an extremely narrow alley called St. Helen’s Passage (formerly Hell’s Passage), twisting my way through a maze of medieval stone walls, and discovering a rare empty stool at the Turf Tavern, its foundations dating to 13th century Oxford.
The intimate bar, consisting of low ceilings (people were much shorter in the 1200s) and timbered beams, is one of literally dozens of colorful pubs nestled within the nooks and crannies of the ancient campus, where sipping ale while debating the world’s affairs have gone hand-in-hand since the patron of education, King Alfred, first founded the historic university.
On this night, and indeed in the days to follow, whether at the Turf Tavern frequented by a young Mr. Clinton, or in a darkened booth at the nearby Eagle and Child, the favorite hangout of J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis, all anybody could talk about was the unexpected injection of Mrs. Palin into the already intriguing 2008 presidential fray.
It was no different tuning-in to British television and radio, with English women from Bath to Birmingham flooding the studio lines to say how dare the men suggest that it is a mother’s place to stay at home and raise the children while the fathers are out pursuing their politics.
Even British men, particularly academic types at Oxford comfortable in their black robes and polished nails, are quite impressed that Mrs. Palin is able to hang a moose up to dry with her laundry. The verbal consensus while necking their pints: Mr. Obama has much to fret.
Adequately filled with foam and fodder, I departed the Turf Tavern through its walled beer garden, where on chillier nights patrons traditionally roast marshmallows over coal fires, resulting in a sweet smelling pillow of smoke wafting through the low-hanging tree branches.
Or at least I assume that’s the aroma of marshmallows.
In the far corner of the paved beer garden one finds a large historical plaque of sorts adhered to the tavern’s wrought iron fence. It reads: "It is alleged that it was here at The Turf that Bill Clinton while here at Oxford University during the sixties ‘did not inhale’ whilst smoking illegal substances."
ONE OF A KIND
"And she can cook, too!" reads the headline of the Des Moines Register, referring to Alaska governor and 2008 vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin.
As the newspaper reports, the emergence of Mrs. Palin as running mate of Republican presidential nominee John McCain "sent journalists digging through their archives to see what if anything they had ever published about her.
The first mention we can find in the Register of a Sarah Palin from Wasilla, Alaska, was in a June 2002 article about the arrival in Des Moines of Copper River salmon from Alaska."
That 2002 story, wouldn’t you know, included Mrs. Palin’s recipe for Sweet and Saucy Grilled Salmon, the tasty secret apparently lying in her measured pours and pinches of brown sugar, mustard, molasses, cinnamon, nutmeg, apple cider vinegar, dried minced onions, dried bell pepper, and Worcestershire sauce.
Bill Frenzel, chairman emeritus of the GOP research and policy group The Ripon Society, hit the nail on the head when writing in advance of the Republican National Convention that despite being “highly scripted events, where nothing is left for chance and the outcome is preordained,” there is still plenty of unexpected “high drama” to take stage.
Little did he, or for that matter other top members of the party, realize that this year’s convention drama would be in the unlikely form of Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin as John McCain’s pick for vice president.
As Mr. Frenzel wrote in the Ripon Forum prior to the convention: “Who would have predicted a month ago . . . that Russia would have invaded Georgia? Or that Brett Favre would be playing for the jets? Uncertainty in politics — like uncertainty in sports — catches us all off guard.”
Washington pollster Frank Luntz learned something for himself while conducting a two-hour session with 25 so-called “floating” or undecided voters in St. Paul, Minn., site of the just-concluded Republican National Convention:
“Previously I have written that these remaining 10 percent who have not committed to a [presidential] candidate are ‘non-partisan.’ That was wrong. They remain uncommitted because they are ‘anti-partisan’, and they are watching and waiting for one of the candidates to prove that they can effectively work across the aisle to solve the challenges facing the country.”
The Spalding Group, which supplies John McCain’s official campaign store with its 2008 presidential campaign gear, is pleased to announce a new fashion product line — the “Sarah line” — named after Gov. Sarah Palin, given her historic bid for the vice presidency and, shall we say, fashion-like figure.
"Speaking of the Tune Inn, we will be honoring Dan Ronayne’s birthday with the annual ‘Baconfest’. Last year, we consumed many pounds of bacon (I spent $60 on bacon alone) to pay tribute to this pork-loving hero."
Congressional veteran-turned-TV pundit Doug Heye, referring to a celebration at one of Capitol Hill’s dungier watering holes for the seasoned Republican Party operative Mr. Ronayne, who obviously enjoys beer with his bacon.
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