Let’s say I, all 34 unwed years of me, was Bristol Palin’s older sister. I wonder how our mom (first name: Hockey) would introduce us to constituents and rallygoers. Would she moon over Bristol’s courage and convictions for surrendering to a for-show, shotgun wedding to a gutter-mouthed hunk of man-child, then mention me with a half-joking, “And here’s our choosy one.” Or worse: “And she’s single, guys!”
Signs point to yes, if (if!) the McCain-Palin ticket falls into lockstep with the Bush adminstration’s marriage propaganda programs. And if this analysis of the pro-family photo ops that ran throughout both conventions holds water. Not only would I be shunted to the kids’ table come Thanksgiving (the sort of holiday embarrassment I’ve fretted about before), but I bet Bristol — half my age! — would be promoted to the adult table by virtue of her less-than-virtuous insemination.
If marriage must be mandatory for an invite to A White House Family Christmas, at least let it defy the Republican party’s seeming “do as I say, not as I do” pedagogy and stiff-limbed public appearances. Whether you’re single, married or somewhere in between, there’s little denying that the Barack-Michelle union’s got zum zizzle, baby — evidently enough to carry them through awkward spouse-gaffes with humor and aplomb. And that many think their mere presence together on a world stage could do more in defense of marriage than any “fatherhood grant.”
Again I say: Those poor kids.
From the Times of London, via TPM:
In an election campaign notable for its surprises, Sarah Palin, the Republican vice- presidential candidate, may be about to spring a new one — the wedding of her pregnant teenage daughter to her ice-hockey-playing fiancé before the November 4 election.
Inside John McCain’s campaign the expectation is growing that there will be a popularity boosting pre-election wedding in Alaska between Bristol Palin, 17, and Levi Johnston, 18, her schoolmate and father of her baby.
“It would be fantastic,” said a McCain insider. “You would have every TV camera there. The entire country would be watching. It would shut down the race for a week.”
 I don’t know about you, but I’d rather be going through a breakup than sitting in these poor kids’ seats:
Second, sitting three-quarters of the way up the bleacher was Bristol Palin and her eighteen-year-old impregnator, Levi Johnston. Once I noticed them, I kept my eye on Bristol and Levi. What I learned provoked an odd empathy for the awful pickle Wasilla High School’s hockey stick wielding homeboy now finds himself in.
Bristol and Levi sat shoulder-to-shoulder. But not once did they look at each other, speak to each other, or in any way acknowledge each other’s physical presence. Not once. For an entire hour. Instead, Bristol stared straight ahead and Levi had the glazed look of a trapped feral animal.
Then when Sarah wound up her autograph signing and the people sitting in front of him on the bleacher began climbing down, Levi stood up and, without looking at or speaking to his betrothed, turned in the opposite direction and walked away.
What I took away from that is that the People Magazine spin about how excited the happy couple is about their upcoming nuptials and Levi’s “Bristol” finger tattoo is the Karl Rovian nonsense that anyone who thinks about it for a scintilla of a second intuitively knows that it is. If McCain-Palin lose, my easy bet is that there will be no nuptials. But if they win, the hand Levi dealt himself by having had the poor luck to knock up the daughter of the Vice President of the United States (at the time who could have known?) will have to be played out.
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