ou gotta love these Republican operatives. It's only February, and they've already come up with the conspiracy theory of the year.
They've decided that the Democrats and independents who put McCain over the top in Michigan are actually Democratic undercover agents trying to wreck the GOP's chances. These moles don't really want John to be president, they just want a weaker candidate to keep the White House Democratic.
Where are the black helicopters when you need them? For once I can share a laugh with Al Sharpton, who lamented that the Democrats aren't organized enough to pull off such a caper. Remember the old Will Rogers line: I don't belong to any organized party, I'm a Democrat.
The seduction of the Democrats by the man from Arizona is actually worse than a conspiracy. It's a collective crush, a massive, blushing swoon.
In Michigan, 18 percent of voters were Democrats who crossed the tracks, and four out of five went for McCain. Now, in Massachusetts, some 30,000 voters have changed their registration from Democrat to independent or Republican to vote for ... guess who?
It's going around. In New York City last week, I had a sampling of bizarre conversations with the sort of West Side Democrats so liberal they think Ralph Nader is a sellout to corporate interests. But they've fallen for McCain. Imagine your old rumpled political science professor wearing baggy pants low on his hips, saying, ''Hey, dude, I just like the guy.''
Now back in Don't-Blame-Me-I'm-From-Massachusetts, I keep running into McGovern Democrats who have fallen into McCain's arms. Go figure.
These are liberals who would have voted for Bradley because he outflanks Gore on the left and now they're going to vote for McCain. Huh?
They don't agree with McCain on anything but campaign finance reform. They're prochoice, he's prolife. They're pro-gun control, he's pro-gun. They're in favor of a nuclear test ban; he's opposed. They're for strong environmental protection; he's not. But, hey, dude, he's a stand-up guy with a good sense of humor.
In the Michigan exit polls the voters seemed to be most smitten by the candidate who ''stands up for what he believes.'' Never mind what it is he believes.
This isn't the McCain Majority, it's the Moonstruck Majority. Remember that moment in ''Moonstruck'' when a hangdog Nicolas Cage tells Cher that he's in love with her, and she says, ''Snap out of it.''
Well, snap out of it.
I'm not surprised by the moonstruck. McCain comes with a compelling personal story. He passed a brutal test of strength and survival. After seven years in which the soft underbelly of the baby-boom generation was in full display in the White House, I can understand the search for a hero. Today we've got ''The Greatest Generation'' on the best-seller list and the POW on the stump.
But these Democrats seem to believe that John McCain is a closet moderate, a work in progress who would be more flexible in the White House than in the Senate. The wishfulness reminds me of a line from ''Guys and Dolls'': ''Marry the man today and change his ways tomorrow.''
Is anybody actually listening to his marriage proposal? ''I'm a proud Reagan conservative. I love the Republican Party. It is my home.'' This isn't a guy who's waiting to be turned around by the love of a good Democrat.
These things happen. People fall for the big hunk. Love is blind. Even their friends can't always help them. Remember the girlfriend who rode all the way to Arkansas with a young Hillary Clinton hoping to talk Hillary out of the marriage?
Maybe it's the economy (that's making us) stupid. The good times are rolling. We are lulled by the idea that policy doesn't matter, that all we need in the White House is a man to respect. McCain has given us a good story and a good sense of humor. But Johnny, we hardly know ye.
Before Super Tuesday, we need to call an intervention with the Moonstruck Democrats. Yo, you are powerless before a higher power with a good biography. Dude, read the fine print on the prenup agreement. Buddy, John McCain could turn out to be the Rick Rockwell of the primary pageant.
Quick. Snap out of it.
Ellen Goodman is a Globe columnist.
