When The Question is asked, tact gets lost in the commotion

"Are you kidding?" another shopper bites back. "What if McCain dies? Do you really want her in charge of the country? Really?"

And then comes that awkward silence we're all getting used to.

Alaskans lean conservative, yes, but our politics aren't like the politics in most places. We're generally a tolerant, freethinking bunch. More than half of us who are registered to vote aren't even registered with a political party.

Palin's nomination has done something to people. We're edgy and thin-skinned. All over the place, strangers find themselves getting heated about God and the economy and sexism and the morality of gubernatorial tanning beds. Take this guy I know, Rick Miles, a soft-spoken bachelor who works in the oil and gas industry and makes it no secret that his politics lean right. A few weeks ago he's at a bar downtown when he runs into these parasitologists -- that is, they study ticks and maggots -- in town for a conference. Of course, it takes no time for them to ask him The Question: "So what do you think of Palin?"

"She's sooooo awesome!" he says.

The scientists look at him, tilt their heads to the side and blink. Nobody says anything for a moment, so Miles chimes in.

"Think about it. If you were a little girl and Hillary Clinton was president, and someone told you that you could be president someday too, it wouldn't really be true because Hillary comes from privilege, has a fancy education, you know?"

The stunned parasitologists couldn't believe he wouldn't want someone with a fancy education to run the country. And then, Miles said, "It got hysterical," which is what he expected.

"At least I got to make a few points first," he said

Meanwhile, David Landry, a carpenter whose politics lean left, told me about this time he was picking up supplies when the guy at the counter noticed his Obama button.

"OBAMA! Man, if I had a gallon of gas, I'd throw it on you and light you on fire," he said.

Landry's known the guy for 25 years. He still likes him, even if he wasn't totally sure he was joking.

"I need to ask him about that," he said.

It's not just strangers, either. Partisan politics have wormed into our relationships.

Anthony Rivas wrote me that he's getting jealous of Obama, who has become an obsession for his fiance. The other night she was falling asleep as he was telling her about his day. Just to see if she was listening, he mentioned a new John McCain attack ad. Her eyes popped open and she "started going off on Obama this and McCain that." Finally, he asked why she didn't get excited about him the way she got excited about Obama. She started apologizing, and he, being super mature, said, "Go find Obama. Maybe you can sleep next to him and see how his day went."

Anyway, they worked it out, but you see what I mean.

I come from people who'll talk politics with anybody. It's a subtle technique, honed over generations, exercised in waiting rooms and parking lots and in airplane seats. It begins with pretending not to have an opinion and then veers into a few probing, common-sense questions, like "Don't you think we should all be able to afford health insurance?" It ends with a hard-sell and possibly instructions on how to register to vote.

That's never been my thing. During the George H.W. Bush years, I used to lie under the table after Sunday dinner while my uncle (a British petroleum engineer) and my grandmother (Italian and actual avowed socialist) yelled at each other about oil policy. To this day, political arguments make me queasy. I'd much rather watch than participate.

Is there a way to avoid the Palin conversation? Do you try not to make eye contact in the coffee line? Say you're a tourist when parasitologists approach at a bar?

My friend Adolf, whose mother worked at Nordstrom for 20 years, seemed like a good person to consult. Raised in an atmosphere of customer service, he's the king of diplomacy. Appropriately, he's also a lawyer.

What does he say when people ask The Question?

"I tell them it's going to be a very interesting election," he said.

Find Daily News reporter Julia O'Malley online at adn.com/contact/jomalley or call 257-4591.