Media-shy Sarah Palin and a crew from ABC News on Alaska's Nushagak Bay. (ABC News/Getty Images)

Doggonit, for the last five days we’ve done nothing but try to figure out this whole Sarah Palin resignation thing. We’ve been watching and rewatching her speech from last Friday from her home on the shores of beautiful Lake Lucille — Alaska, you know, it’s so beautiful, and big and important, and energy! It’s got a lot of energy! —reading the transcript, reading and watching all the media coverage and it may even be that’s it’s begun to affect the way we write.

And while we’re on the subject of media, boy, are there ever lots of media from the Lower 48 in Alaska, which you know, is part of the problem. Average, hard-working Americans, the kind she was elected to represent, wonder how she puts up with all the media coverage.

Like Monday, there she was on the shores of beautiful Nushagak Bay. She’d been out fishing for salmon and “pickin’ fish” with Todd and the kids like she does every Fourth of July weekend and suddenly all the media show up like they’d been invited.

Actually, they kind of were invited, all the networks and the AP guy, because she didn’t want to chase all the media people off, just the snotty ones like David Letterman or that Vanity Fair guy who got those people to call her a narcissist, so she invited reporters up to Nushagak Bay to watch her jump out of the boat, still wearing her waders, but with her hair and makeup carefully in place because, doggonit, Alaskans like to look good for the fish.

“Politically speaking, if I die, I die,” she told ABC, which is a pretty spunky attitude, and probably a pretty good prediction, because it’s hard to bail out of a governor’s office and then run for president. What’s the campaign slogan going to be? “Two and-a-half more years! Two-and-half more years!”

It’s like in basketball. A point guard’s job is to bring the ball up court against a full-court press and then pass the ball off to the open man and then immediately run to the bench and sit down.

And how about our troops, eh? They’re so inspirational. We like to think that a soldier who signs up for a four-year hitch and then bugs out after two and half, he’s not AWOL. He’s just making a positive difference for our country from outside the Army.

This is not politics as usual! This is not go-with-the-flow, like a dead fish. This is taking a bold stand. You don’t hear much about that in the media, do ya’?

On Tuesday, the hardest-working governor in show biz appeared in Kotzebue, Alaska, to sign a bill designed to bring public safety officers to small towns. Kotzebue, a native village of about 3,000 people, lies 30 miles north of the Arctic Circle, 450 miles from Anchorage and 200 miles from Russia, which makes this bill sort of an international security measure, doesn’t it?

It turns out that there’s a tremendous turnover rate among Village Public Safety Officers in remote Alaskan outposts. House Bill 106, the first bill the governor signed after announcing that she’s quitting, is aimed at keeping them from quitting.

Irony? You betcha.