Clause of the evening

Long day, huh? Let's relax with a dram of single-cask McClatchy:

Mere months ago, Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin was introduced to the world as a hockey mom who hunts and fishes, remains grounded in small-town values, and is married to her blue-collar, snow-machine-loving high school sweetheart.

Saturday night, Palin was whisked into the governors-and-cabinet-members-only section of one of the nation's capital's most exclusive parties: the Alfalfa Club dinner. Wearing an elegant black satin evening gown and a matching wrap, hair loose to her shoulders, Palin was about as far away as anyone can get from field-dressing a moose, let alone Joe the Plumber.

My, my, my. How the mind struggles to fill in the elided blanks:
... as far away as anyone can get from field-dressing a moose, let alone (field-dressing) Joe the Plumber

... as far away as anyone (let alone Joe the Plumber) can get from field-dressing a moose

... as far away as anyone can get from field-dressing a moose, let alone (how far anyone can get from) Joe the Plumber

I think -- all right, I kind of hope, in a regretful sort of way -- that Door No. 3 is more or less what the writer had in mind. But in that case, don't we have the image entirely backward? I don't know if Joe has a tie, but you could probably buy him one, and odds are he'd be a lot more likely to get into the Alfalfa Club than if he walked in with a bunch of moose chitlins around his neck.