EW LONDON, N.H. - It might have been his 69th town hall meeting in the first primary state, but Senator John McCain's well-worn comedic turns still found plenty of laughs at Colby-Sawyer College yesterday afternoon.
''I'm the only presidential candidate you will see who attended the MTV awards,'' he said by way of introduction. ''And I can tell you, it was the greatest assault on my senses since I was in prison.''
The other staples of McCain the campaigner were on display, too: his jocular claim to covet the eccentric look of rapper Busta Rhymes, with whom he shared the stage at the MTV awards; his mock vanity at having his square jaw and bone-white hair grace the cover of Time magazine; his wife's belief that he decided to run for president because he ''received several sharp blows to the head in prison'' during the Vietnam War.
His audience of several hundred, composed mostly of elderly supporters, ate it up, some of them shooting each other ''Can you believe he said that?'' looks.
This disarming, devil-may-care routine has helped make McCain an increasingly potent threat to Texas Governor George W. Bush, his rival for the Republican presidential nomination. McCain's campaign aides talk about it all the time: They can barely believe their luck, they say, working for a candidate who says what is on his mind with little apparent regard for the consequences. It is a trait that has also proved so far to be a good campaign strategy - capturing the imagination of many voters and endearing McCain to many reporters, who have rewarded him with copious amounts of news coverage.
''Showtime!'' announced strategist Mike Murphy early yesterday morning, playing Ed McMahon to his candidate's Johnny Carson, as he warmed up the audience of reporters in the back of McCain's bus, dubbed The Straight Talk Express. ''Let's send you back a newsmaker here.''
With that, McCain appeared. He parked himself in a red leather swivel chair, grabbed a Christmas sprinkle-topped donut and dispatched it in a couple of lusty mouthfuls.
En route to Claremont, and with a video camera inches from his face, McCain held forth on a range of subjects: the weather, Wednesday night's venison dinner (''A slice of Bambi's mother,'' he quipped) - until he came to the topic he wanted to pause over.
The issue of the day was campaign finance, and it was highlighted by a remarkable handshake with Democratic counterpart Bill Bradley and a pledge to keep ''soft'' money out of the general election if McCain and Bradley are both nominated.
McCain became serious. He vehemently rejected the suggestion that big donors such as AT&T had any direct influence on his votes as a senator. ''Ask any watchdog organization, and they'll tell you it's not the case,'' he said.
Back on the bus after the handshake, McCain seemed to be assessing the event as he went along, uncertain of its success. He worried that he hadn't stated clearly enough that campaign finance reform should be a priority for conservatives. He said he wouldn't know for a few days whether the issue would take hold with voters.
''It may be a one-day story, or it may have some resonance,'' he said. But he said he believes voters are far more concerned about it than polls suggest.
''Maybe I'm wrong,'' he said. ''If so, I'll fail. I've failed at other things in my life.''
At the Claremont handshake event, Bradley's relaxed, low-key persona threw McCain's free-wheeling, combative ways into sharp relief. Bradley was polite and restrained throughout, playing it mostly straight. McCain wisecracked often, and snapped at one questioner, accusing him of ''a very clever misrepresentation'' of McCain's position on campaign finance.
The New Lebanon Town Hall meeting was McCain's show alone, and his questioners gave him a chance to discuss many subjects, seldom challenging him.
McCain reiterated his belief that Elian Gonzalez, the 6-year-old Cuban boy at the center of a dispute between Cuba and the United States, should not be returned to Cuba; and he lamented the turnover of the Panama Canal. When asked if he would try to limit immigration, he answered with a firm ''no.''
He vowed to fully fund special education in schools while maintaining strict standards for entry into programs. He called for higher pay for teachers, teacher testing, and more support for charter schools.
He pledged to do everything in his ''power to prevent `partial-birth' abortions,'' if elected.
At the end of the meeting, the Arizonan went for the laughs again. Arizona had bred some good presidential candidates, he said - Mo Udall, Barry Goldwater, Bruce Babbitt - all of them also-rans.
''Arizona might be the only state in America,'' he said, ''where mothers don't tell their children they can be president when they grow up.''
It brought the house down.
