Palin mocks the media, Obama

ST. PAUL, MINN. -- Greeted by thunderous applause, Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin presented herself to the Republican National Convention on Wednesday -- and to millions of Americans watching from home -- as a small-town outsider ready to join John McCain's ticket in waging "a tough fight in this election against confident opponents at a crucial hour for our country."

"I will be honored to accept the nomination for vice president of the United States," she said in one of the convention's most anticipated speeches.

With those words, the crowd roared -- and the flashes of thousands of cameras reflected off her glasses.

It was the crowning moment of a roller-coaster week in which the first woman ever on a Republican presidential ticket has faced questions about how closely the McCain campaign scrutinized her. The 44-year-old self-described "hockey mom" also has heard a wide range of inquiries about family issues, her policy positions and her record of public service.

Palin took crowd-delighting swipes at Democratic presidential nominee Barack Obama and what she called the "Washington elite."

"The American presidency is not supposed to be a journey of 'personal discovery.' This world of threats and dangers is not just a community, and it doesn't just need an organizer," Palin said, a reference to Obama's time as a community organizer in Chicago.

And to the media that had closely examined her record, she said: "Here's a little news flash for all those reporters and commentators: I'm not going to Washington to seek their good opinion. I'm going to Washington to serve the people of this country."

Palin, selected by McCain on Friday, addressed the convention amid questions about her qualifications and relative lack of experience.

The first-term governor had top billing at the convention on a night delegates also lined up for a noisy roll call of the states to deliver their presidential nomination to McCain.

Watching inside the convention hall were members of Palin's family: husband Todd and their children, including 17-year-old Bristol Palin, whom the Palins disclosed earlier in the week was five months pregnant. Bristol Palin's 18-year-old boyfriend, Levi Johnston, was seated with them.

McCain shook up the presidential race by picking Palin, a little-known governor with less than two years in office.

Since then, a bright spotlight has been trained on the life and record of the Republican governor, who has bucked the state's political establishment.

Days after Palin made her debut on the national stage with McCain, the campaign announced her unmarried daughter's pregnancy. Other disclosures followed, including that a private attorney is authorized to spend $95,000 of state money to defend her against accusations of abuse of power and that Palin sought pork-barrel projects for her city and state, contrary to her reformist image.

"Our family has the same ups and downs as any other ... the same challenges and the same joys," she said.

Noting that the couple's oldest son, Track, 19, is shipping out to Iraq next week with the Army infantry, Palin praised McCain as "a true profile in courage, and people like that are hard to come by."

"He's a man who wore the uniform of this country for 22 years, and refused to break faith with those troops in Iraq who have now brought victory within sight. And as the mother of one of those troops, that is exactly the kind of man I want as commander-in-chief," she said.

Largely unknown outside her home state, Palin told the convention: "I had the privilege of living most of my life in a small town. I was just your average hockey mom, and signed up for the PTA because I wanted to make my kids' public education better," she said, speaking of her home town of Wasilla, Alaska, with a population of about 6,500.

"When I ran for city council, I didn't need focus groups and voter profiles because I knew those voters and knew their families, too," she said.

Before becoming governor, Palin served as mayor of Wasilla, she recounted, adding: "And since our opponents in this presidential election seem to look down on that experience, let me explain to them what the job involves. I guess a small-town mayor is sort of like a 'community organizer,' except that you have actual responsibilities."

North Carolina delegates were enthralled.

U.S. Rep. Virginia Foxx pumped her fist. Mecklenburg County Republican chairman Lee Teague stood for practically the whole speech. They swayed and whistled, shouted amen, laughed at the good lines and turned to boo the media section, shouting, "Shame" and pointing their fingers.

"It's a history-making speech. She knocked it out of the box," said Shirley Babson, a delegate from Bolivia, N.C.