riday's Wall Street Journal reported that the Gore campaign, concerned because Bush seems to be ''doing better'' among female voters, convened a focus group to ask women which candidate would be a better date.
The news was good for Gore: ''Though not a dream date, he was deemed thoughtful, reflective, and interested in what women have to say.''
Bush was thought to be ''the type who would drive up in a flashy convertible, honk the horn instead of coming to the door, lean against his car chewing gum, and spend all night talking about himself.''
So why is Bush ''doing better'' with women than Gore? Well, women have a weakness for flashy convertibles. And, as another poll indicated, Bush has a big lead among married voters because Gore, although by all accounts a fine family man, is tainted by association with the first philanderer.
Dating is one thing; a long-term relationship is another. The same might be said of presidential politics. Campaigning is one thing; what happens in the White House is something else.
When I'm politically confused, I find it helpful to try to imagine the candidates doing domestic chores. In this light, neither one is any bargain.
For example, who would you trust to feed the cats?
Bush would ask, ''Why can't they feed themselves?'' But he'd be willing to help, as long as you laid out the cat food for him and gave him detailed instructions.
Gore would feed the cats but criticize your choice of cat food, and he'd feel obliged to point out that the cats are better nourished than many third-world people.
If you asked for help cleaning the house?
Bush would call a cleaning service, one that accepts payments in cash.
Gore would pitch in, using only environmentally sound cleaning materials that wouldn't get the sludge off your oven. Sometime later, your dirty stove would figure in a campaign speech about the compromises we must make if we care about Planet Earth.
If you wanted advice choosing a color to paint the living room?
Gore would say he'd love to help but that it was impossible to choose just one color because he loves all colors equally.
Bush would tell you to go ahead and paint it any color you like, as long as it's white.
If you found a mouse in the kitchen?
Bush would whack it with a stick. Then he'd tell anybody who'd listen that he learned to kill mice that way when he was a boy in Texas.
Gore would trap the mouse humanely. Then he'd call a press conference, make a speech about the importance of respecting wildlife, and release the mouse unharmed, into its natural habitat, your backyard.
If you asked for help with a neighborhood barbecue?
Both candidates would turn it into a fund-raiser.
Bush would fire up the mesquite and make a big production of cooking a chunk of meat slathered with his special Texas sauce. It would be delicious, but you'd get stuck cleaning up the mess.
Gore would gather the neighbors around and explain the ecological wisdom of using a gas grill. Then he'd describe, in detail, exactly how he planned to cook free-range chicken and organic vegetables. By the time he finished talking and started grilling, everybody would have gone home.
