It was a moment of earth-shattering import--a brief, blinding instant when everything we ever thought we knew about the nature of the universe was suddenly thrown out the proverbial window. This morning as Alaska Governor and Republican vice-presidential nominee Sarah Palin ducked into Karl's Restaurant and Deli in Cleveland, Ohio to greet a group of patrons, the press pool that's followed her every move for the past three weeks requested a reaction to the AIG bailout. And Palin--gasp!--actually responded. “Disappointed that taxpayers are called upon to bailout another one,” she said.

Hallelujah.

It has been 25 days since John McCain picked Palin as his running mate. This is the first time she's answered an impromptu question from a national reporter on the trail. For those of you who aren't keeping track--not covering politics for a living, are you?--it's been 34 days since McCain himself held a press conference (Birmingham, Mich., Aug. 13). His town-hall meeting Monday in Florida was the first time he's fielded questions from voters in nearly a month (New Mexico, Aug. 20). And Palin never interacted with reporters OR voters until today. (The DNC has even launched a "McCain Press Watch" clock to keep track of the blackout.)

This bunker mentality isn't totally unprecedented. Democratic rival Barack Obama, always a distant presence, shut out journos for long stretches of his primary battle with Hillary Clinton. But McCain's silent treatment has been a particularly striking shift in strategy from a candidate who long prided himself on interacting freely with the press after each event and on board bus; who calls town hall meetings "the most important part, in my view, of the process"; who argued as recently as January that avoiding inquiries from reporters "destroys credibility"; and who has promised weekly news conferences and a British-style question period if he's elected president. "I enjoy it a lot," he said earlier this year of the give-and-take. "It keeps me intellectually stimulated, it keeps me thinking about issues." The blackout got so bad that a dozen reporters on board Straight Talk Air staged a mini insurrection Monday after leaving Tampa. "Bring Mac back! Bring Mac back!" they chanted. Staffers in the business cabin smiled--and promptly closed the curtain.

But now Team McCain may be pulling it back again--at least a little. This afternoon, Palin sat down with FOX News' Sean Hannity--alas, not the toughest interrogator--for her second television interview; she'll face Katie Couric next week as well. Meanwhile, Palin and McCain will meet up tonight in Grand Rapids, Mich. for their first joint town hall event, at which they're expected to field questions from the crowd. (Palin, who has had no face-to-face interaction with voters aside from shaking hands at rope lines, was supposed to do a Q&A for the first time this afternoon in Cleveland. It's unclear whether she did.) Still, McCain and Palin are still far from meeting Obama and Biden's current standard of accessibility. (Biden has done more than 80 interviews with local and national media since the Democrats held their national convention late last month.) The rest of the Republicans' appearances this week--in Cedar Rapids, Iowa; Green Bay, Wisc.; and Blaine, Minn.--were supposed to be town halls as well. Now they're rallies. And neither candidate is planning to tango with national reporters anytime soon.

It's a delicate dance that Team McCain is engaged in. As my NEWSWEEK colleague Jonathan Alter noted earlier this month, the McCain campaign may be providing Palin for a few low-impact initial chats with folks like Sean Hannity so that "when the media complain that she is being kept away"--i.e., no press conferences--"the McCain campaign will cite the half dozen or so interviews she has granted as proof that the campaign press is just bellyaching." Shielding Palin (and McCain, for that matter) from the spotlight is a low-risk strategy. It not only reduces the risks of gaffes and maintains near-total control over the message, it's also makes the media-bashing masses squeal with vindictive delight. Still, it's worth noting that the political press corps--as despised as it might be, often fairly--is actually important here. Thanks to Palin's relatively skimpy C.V., the greatest test of her readiness for office--as it was for the equally green Obama--will be how well she performs in the campaign pressure-cooker. There's no better measure of her character and convictions than dueling with press and the public on a regular basis. Palin's rise has been remarkable. But until she answers some tough, fair questions, we won't know whether it's prepared her for high office.

I mean, we're talking about the White House. President of the United States of America. Leader of the Free World. Here's hoping that McCain and Co. continue to pull back that curtain.