I sat there watching, thinking, THAT is what we all pray for in politics. Someone able to connect that intensely, that charismatically, that lovably.

Conan O'Brien joined in on guitar, and you could see even the jaundiced redhead was caught up in the majesty of the moment. People felt connected to, and alive, and a little bit in love.

THAT's what the Democrats need to come up with, somehow, and the suspicions are strong, in the wake of that performance, that that quality does not exist in the U.S. Senate, where the bulk of candidates for 2004 are huddled, or under the Al Gore rock of discretion.

It was something, seeing this already nerdy guy go mega-nerd, in the white coat and specs. He allowed people to see him in a very generous display of comedy, fascinated by the minutiae of the regulations, yet able to make fun of his own fascination. I liked Al Gore at that moment, and I can't usually say that.

But the times called for something sturdier than breaking an ashtray Wednesday night, and I came away a little disappointed. Gore bantered with Conan about a Dylan concert both had attended, but he seemed not to have a purpose for being there except to flog his two fluffy simultaneously published books on family policy.

He came across as lively and with-it, and able to maintain a razorwire conversation with O'Brien — but that was it. People wanting to see him stake out some turf in the 2004 political war, as his recent criticisms did, were likely disappointed.

Democrats know that the next guy or gal they send out there has to be a political King Kong, able to survive endless divebombing, able to break through the fog of misdirection and character assassination that the GOP will be laying down.

The Rove administration creamed Gore in 2000. While Gore sought to score policy points, Rove and company waged the only campaign Americans seem to care about, one rooted in gossip, personality, "stance," and a philosophy cadged from the world of advertising — whoever seems most "American" wins. There's nothing new about this approach, but Bush's people were inordinately disciplined and cheerfully willing to win by spreading false innuendoes about Gore's character, relying on GOP flunkies in the commentariot (like Richard Berke, Tim Russert, and Howard Fineman) to do their dirty work.

And Gore let them do it.

Bush narrowly edged Gore — that phrase does not do justice to the excruciating closeness of that election, in which Gore got more votes, even in Florida, but still managed to lose the prize.