HOW THEY SEE IT Welcome to the Presidential Olympics

By CAROL GOLDBERG and SUSAN CAMPBELL
HARTFORD COURANT
With the sun setting on the 28th Olympiad and about to rise on the Republican National Convention in New York City next week, it's time to inaugurate the first Presidential Olympics.
Why should voters choose their next commander-in-chief based on canned campaign appearances, canned debates, conflicting political ads, photo ops and the like? Let's get the presidential candidates out of their comfort zone and force them to compete, hand-to-hand, for the gold. (Democratic candidate John F. Kerry already has most of the sporting equipment he needs; incumbent George W. Bush can wear his nifty flight suit.)
It would be "Fear Factor" meets "West Wing" by way of "Survivor." Events could include, but should not be limited to these:
UEach candidate must write a speech with help from no one, and then deliver the oration without a teleprompter.
UGiven the budget for the typical family of four on food stamps, candidates buy food for a week and back-to-school clothes for three children, ages 6, 10 and 17. The children will judge this event.
UCandidates sit down with an ailing elderly person and help him or her sign up for a Medicare prescription card -- and do so correctly. This is a timed event.
UCandidates sit in a booth and watch their own television ads over and over again. The last candidate to leave the booth wins. Or maybe the first candidate to leave the booth should win, humility being an attractive quality.
UCandidates fill out a college application and scholarship application form (can you say "FAFSA?") for a middle-class student, and then deal with the multiple follow-up phone calls and e-mails such an application requires.
UCandidates teach a kindergarten kid to read a book.
UCandidates explain to a family that has lost a son or daughter in Iraq why the candidate's adult children should not have to enlist.
UCandidates face off on a stage and take turns coming up with ways to question the background, the family and the inner workings of the soul of the other without using curse words.
UCandidates gather their medals (be they Purple Hearts or elementary-school good-attendance awards), drop them in a bag and toss them. The farthest toss wins.
Los Angeles Times-Washington Post News Service