Aside from the icky, I-would-rather-not-think-about-that-ness of Sarah Palin's fertility levels and the fetishization of her shoe collection, what I found weirdly most compelling in Todd Purdum's Vanity Fair story was its portrayal of the relationship between the first dude and his wife. The notion that Palin does not actually have any established politicos among her inner circle and that her primary counsel is her salmon-loving husband, Todd, struck me as particularly poignant, especially given the slow-motion nuptial car crash unfolding in another Republican circle.

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Jenny Sanford might as well be Jenny Sangfroid at this point: faced with her husband's weepy and continued list of indiscretions (on that note: Sanford's comment that he "crossed the line" but did not have sex with other women has a distinct, icky, I-would-rather-not think-about-that-ness to it, too), his wife has remained remarkably, shall we say, judicious in her defense, standing up only for her family and staying far away from the issue of her husband's career. Given the S.C. attorney general's current investigation into possible state-funded trysts, this is probably a good idea, if not a marriage-saving one. Then again, when a husband announces to the national media that he's beginning a campaign in earnest to "fall back in love" with his own wife, we should probably be glad that at least one Sanford isn't oversharing, right?


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