Used to be, no matter where in the world you traveled, if you identified yourself as an Alaskan you immediately acquired a tangible aura of coolness that could get you, at the least, a good conversation, and at best free drinks and an audience.

Even calling an 800 number used to yield a 50-50 chance of turning a routine business exchange into a Q and A on all things Alaska and a reminder of what is unique about living here. “What is the temperature there now?” “How long does the sun stay up in the sky?” “There’s a moose in your yard!?” 

Now, though, no one seems to care about the midnight sun or big salmon.

They don’t ask questions about moose or igloos. Instead, they want to know all about Sarah Palin.

She is the most famous Alaskan on the planet. No Alaskan, past or present, is as well known as her, and that is not likely to change anytime soon.

Love her or hate her—and those seem to be the only two options from which people choose—she personifies the quintessential Alaskan to the rest of world.

Now the 800 number ordeal promises to be mind-numbing with the added bonus of questions like, “Do you know Sarah Palin?” “Is she really as pretty as she looks on TV?” “Don’t you love her?” 

I usually point out that she hasn’t been much seen in these parts since she bailed out of the governor’s seat and headed south to make her millions.

Getting any more critical than that is dangerous because her fans and detractors are equally vehement, and angering someone who has your credit card number is never a good idea.

If you think I’m exaggerating, consider the experience of my friend, Tom Devine. He was in Nepal last year, supporting a party attempting to summit Everest. When word got around that he was from Alaska, a Nepalese Sherpa approached him and asked if he knew Sarah Palin. About the same time, Tim Woody, Alaska’s editor, was traveling in a remote part of New Zealand when he had some minor car trouble. When he pulled off the road, a man emerged from a nearby farmhouse and offered his help. When Tim told him he was from Alaska, the man asked, “So, are ya friends with Sarah?” 

So, from down under to high on the Himalayan Plateau, when people think of Alaska, they think of Palin. While Palin was wildly popular among Alaska voters at the time of her election, she is not so well liked now. Maybe it’s jealousy over her success, feelings of abandonment, or disdain toward her apparent lack of humility regarding the opportunity that John McCain handed to her. Whatever the reason, if she returned to Alaska politics, I doubt she’d experience the political success she found here just a few years ago.

None of that matters though. Palin has become an international figure and we’re left in her wake, fielding inane questions about her and wishing desperately that we could regain the coolness we once enjoyed.

Alaska is more than the place Sarah Palin came from, but convincing the world of that will be difficult, if not impossible.