I'm sitting in a tier with other print journalists, behind the podium and slightly to the right, waiting for Governor Sarah Palin to make her much-anticipated acceptance speech. Right now, the voices of a convention hall full of delegates and other GOP faithfuls are rising to a fevered pitch. Former New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani is firing up the crowd by taking shots at the Dems. He's having a great time. (A comment about off-shoring drilling has erupted into "Drill Baby Drill!" chanting from the crowd. Rudy loves it. He's giggling.) Anyway.

Part of the problem with selecting a virtually unheard of Veep candidate is she's never been vetted in the national media. We're in the middle of a mass scramble to learn—and report—every detail about her professional, political and personal life that will introduce this relative newcomer very quickly to a mass audience. Talk about information overload! Governor Palin's whole life is coming at America all at once. But amidst all the earfuls I've heard all week and all that I've read, I wondered if I could give Ms. Palin a fresh look as she makes her case for the first time. We owe all of our candidates that.

Here she comes—the woman of the week. The crowd, which I would consider subdued compared to last week in Denver, just went absolutely ape. Here's the governor, walking around the podium, with a sharp skirt and jacket combo, smokey glasses, partially upswept hair, smiling, waving, and, well, gorgeous. She looks remarkably calm and confident, given what's riding on this speech. The crowd won't quit. Hats, flags, banners all wave. She looks as if she would like them to stop, just so she can get on with it. She accepts the nomination. The crowd goes crazy again.

Mama. Governor. Wife. Executive. Hockey mom. Beauty queen. Small-town mayor. She's all of those and completely non-apologetic.  Add to that list—highly effective attack dog. This much we now know: She can give one searing speech with a calm, almost sweet smile on her face.  "Our opponent has authored two memoirs, but a single major law...." Ouch!  "I guess a small-town mayor is sort of like a community organizer, except that you have actual responsibilities." Ew-ah! Palin goes after Obama again and again, with a confident, calm smile on her face, without saying his name a single time.  She does her bit to play to the conservative base, articulating the values of small town living—patriotism and straight, plain talk among them. She takes shots at the media, she refers to Obama's Ivy league resume, she has a bonding moment when women rise with signs that say "Hockey Moms for Palin." Palin quips, "I love those hockey moms. You know they say the difference between a Pitbull and a hockey mom? (pause, pause). Lipstick."

She's funny, clear-speaking, seemingly undaunted, and direct. Her zingers make me cower like a kid who's eaten a whole roll of cookie dough from the fridge. She narrows her eyes so slightly and presses her lips as she whips out another insult and,  I feel the sting. To counter that, she embraces her family, warts and all. She immediately takes baby Trig, wide-eyed, when her clan joins her on the stage. Senator McCain makes his appearance and the crowd roars.

(SHHHHH, People! PLEASE get that baby to bed! Isn't it past his bedtime?)

Her debut was solid and clearly establishes her as a tough customer, a worthy debate opponent for Joe Biden. But I think we have a lot to learn about Governor Palin and how she might work with and influence a potential American president. We should learn all we can because important. It's not so important that she's a woman on the ticket—it's much more important that we have so much to learn about this person. Let's pay attention.