Wipe that disdainful expression off your face! If it’s good enough for Jenna Jameson, Hugh Downs, Barbara Eden, Leslie Nielsen, Ricky Schroder, former Vice President Dan Quayle and Alice Cooper, it’s certainly good enough for you. I’m talking about Scottsdale, Ariz., my new home away from home, and a place that you should seriously think about adding to your could-I-bear-to-live-there? list.

Thought it was just a sleepy retirement community? Geriatric, schmeriatric! Having just returned from yet another surprise-packed trip, I am telling you, Scottsdale is one surreal and crazy town. Stylish, too.

Did you know, for example, that Ms. Jameson, the porn star, is such a big fashion shopper that she has her very own dedicated parking spot at the Fashion Square Mall? No? Thought not.

There’s oodles of high culture, as well. At the labyrinthine Westin, where I sojourned last week, I was treated to the haunting spectacle of a Scottish bagpipe player. He appears on the golf course every day around 5, performing in 100-degree-plus heat while wearing a scratchy kilt. As if that weren’t decadent enough, the cocktail bar in the Westin lobby is named the Rim.

Everything in Scottsdale is much more louche and naughty than you might expect. Even the food. One of the principal local delicacies is, in fact, totally illegal. I am talking about the notorious bacon-wrapped Mexican hot dog. (Food safety codes prohibit the wrapping of uncooked pork products around a pre-cooked item.) This addictive Sonoran snack can be purchased on various street corners for $3. The illicit frisson only serves to fuel the ardor of the locals for this wildly decadent cholesterol-busting bargain treat. Ask for it “con todos” and you won’t be disappointed.

Why Scottsdale, why now?

My focus on Scottsdale results from the fact that there’s a Barneys flagship store opening in the aforementioned mall. I have been making reconnaissance trips to prepare for the Oct. 15 opening, and am starting to make quite an impression on the locals. I might be five feet four and a half inches in New York, but in Scottsdale I am Shaq-tastically gigantic. (He lives there, too!) Last week alone I was the featured guest on two local morning TV shows. A third appearance was canceled when word reached the station that rain was in the offing. All reporters were dispatched to various corners of the Scottsdale-Phoenix area to interview the locals about how they were coping with the possibility of rain. Mention the word “precipitation,” and everyone goes to pieces.

Speaking of dramas: Last week, I had my first Scottsdale health emergency. Here’s what went down: A colleague and I were taste-testing mini-desserts for the opening bash. The proffered stuffed raspberry looked innocent enough. But while masticating, a strange electrical tingle exploded in my head. I assumed the worst and prepared to collapse to the floor and transition into a vegetative state.

“Pop Rocks!” shouted the chef, who had cunningly inserted the weird 1970s candy into the offending fruit. I am telling you, nothing is too wild and crazy for the people of Scottsdale.

On my next trip, I fully intend to visit one of the Arizona Indian casinos, which lie on the outskirts of the city. Local TV commercials hosted by glamorous and otherwise “slot coordinators” have mesmerized me with their tantalizing descriptions of the newest innovations, including Star Trek– and Playboy-themed one-arm bandits.

Care to join? If you get lucky at the tables, you could snap up a foreclosed real estate bargain. Worst-case scenario, you can always get a job as a slot coordinator. We can celebrate with a Mexican hot dog. Say goodbye to the Highline and the Monkey Bar and lets go party down at the Rim!

sdoonan@observer.com 

-- Sarah Palin, 1/13/09

"I just said, 'Lookit…I said I've done it their way this far and now it's my turn. I'm my own handler. Any questions? Ask me.''

-- Dan Quayle, 10/13/1988

The piece is a little dated—references to John Sununu and the invasion of Panama are unlikely to ring bells with younger readers—but it definitely sheds some light on Mr. Kristol, who is now a New York Times columnist who writes spectacularly pro-Sarah Palin columns for the paper and shows his fondness for the Republican vice presidential nominee in his magazine, The Weekly Standard, and during TV appearances.

Here's what Mr. Weisberg wrote back in 1990:

This time around, the public seems to have been first level, with the Republican Party holding steady at second. (The White House is entirely dependent on voters.) As Mr. Kristol wrote in The Times on September 7th with Governor Palin's Republican National Convention speech fresh in his mind, "A Wasilla Wal-Mart Mom a heartbeat away? I suspect most voters will say, No problem. And some — perhaps a decisive number — will say, It’s about time."

Then there's this:

That neatly echoes what Mr. Kristol thought about Governor Palin on October 6th when he wrote, "As for the campaign, Palin made clear — without being willing to flat out say so — that she regretted allowing herself to be overly handled and constrained after the Republican convention. She described the debate on Thursday night as 'liberating,' and she emphasized how much she now looked forward to being out there, 'getting to speak directly to the folks.'"

In his tee-up to Mr. Weisberg's archival piece, Mr. Orr wrote, "there's little reason to imagine that Kristol would want to give up any of his lucrative media gigs. But if you believe the people Scott Horton has been talking to, he sees Palin as a blank slate, a charismatic but unformed political figure who could be an effective messenger for the tenets of neoconservatism, just as soon as she's been taught them. "

Will Mr. Kristol get a chance to be another vice president's brain? That depends on whether voters recall the words of Mr. Kristol's original vessel who once said of... well, something,"The question is whether we're gonna go forward to tomorrow, or past to the back?"

When it comes to Barack Obama’s running-mate search, the question of “when?” is now being asked just as often as “who?”

The Politico is reporting that Obama’s decision is expected this week – but that it also might come “as late as this weekend,” or even “the beginning of next week” at the Democratic convention. Which doesn’t really narrow it down at all. Marc Ambinder, meanwhile, notes that Obama is scheduled for a down day in Chicago this Friday and that “Democratic advance folks are being called to Chicago,” suggesting an end-of-week announcement could be in the works. Or maybe not.

It’s worth noting that the last time a VP choice was announced during a convention was in 1988, when George H. W. Bush tapped Dan Quayle on the second day of the G.O.P.’s New Orleans gathering. Maybe that’s a bad omen for convention-week announcements, but a decent case can be made that Obama would be well served by holding off until Monday or Tuesday of next week.

Basically, doing so would allow him to reassert some control over the images and messages coming out of Denver in the early part of next week. As of now, Michelle Obama is set to speak on Monday night – but will she be overshadowed by what should be an emotional tribute to Ted Kennedy, complete with a pre-taped address from the senator himself? And even though Virginia’s Mark Warner is technically the keynote speaker, Tuesday night will belong to Hillary Clinton – all day and night, expect the media to rehash the Democratic primary campaign and to fixate on the various gripes, misgivings, and hang-ups that her supporters have about Obama. And while he’ll speak before the 10 o’clock hour, Bill Clinton’s Wednesday night address – will he actually say Obama is ready to be president?! – could actually steal some of the thunder from Obama’s own running mate, who will formally accept the nomination that night.

But if Obama’s running mate is unresolved when the convention opens, the guessing game would create a significant diversion for the otherwise Hillary-obsessed media. Instead of devoting most of their airtime to theoretical questions about whether Clinton voters might abandon the party in the fall, the press would be forced to invest considerable time and effort covering the VP mystery (something they rather enjoy doing anyway). If Obama were then to announce his pick on Tuesday, it would easily match Clinton’s speech in the coverage it received – and create immediate suspense for the VP nominee’s Wednesday night speech, thus diminishing the build-up for Bill Clinton’s address.

Of course, there’s obvious backfire potential to this – that Clinton’s delegates will take it as a slap in the face, an effort to deny them and their candidate their moment in the sun. Plus, it would give them less time to acclimate themselves to the reality of a non-Hillary VP nominee, creating the possibility of an ugly scene on the floor when the VP is formally nominated – or during his or her acceptance speech. It might be better for Obama to roll out his choice this Friday, let the Clinton delegates vent their frustrations, and hope it will have blown over by next week.

There is one other factor to keep in mind: If Obama does go to the convention without a VP pick, it might also be a sign that Clinton is under consideration. It’s long been obvious that Obama will only entertain the idea of picking her if a confluence of harsh political realities forces him to. Presumably, if such a situation were developing, he’d wait until the very last minute before pulling the trigger on a Clinton selection, just to make certain that he really has no other choice.

There’s plenty of of noise coming from the right these days, dire warnings to John McCain about the terrible consequences that will befall him if he fails to appease the Republican Party’s base with his VP selection. These voices come in response to McCain’s apparent openness to choosing a pro-choice running mate – possibly Tom Ridge, but more likely Joe Lieberman.

His dilemma calls to mind the one faced by George H. W. Bush 20 years ago. Bush, much like McCain now, was not particularly liked or trusted by the right (although, unlike McCain, he had spent the previous eight years bending over backward to alter this reputation). As the ’88 G.O.P. convention approached, the right’s dominant voices loudly demanded that Bush appease them by selecting a stridently conservative running mate. Failure to do so, they told the press, would cost him the election. After toying with choosing pro-choice Wyoming Senator Alan Simpson, Bush ultimately complied with the right and tapped Dan Quayle of Indiana.

For what it’s worth, here’s a sample of the reaction of conservative leaders to Quayle’s selection:

* Then New Hampshire Senator Gordon Humphrey: “It is hard to imagine a more sound and appropriate choice.”

* Phyllis Schlafly: Quayle “brings youth, attractiveness, conservative image … all the elements of a great and winning ticket.''

* Pat Robertson: “A pretty smart choice.”

All of that praise, of course, seemed silly by the end of the ’88 campaign. Quayle was woefully unprepared for the national spotlight and his presence on the ticket raised serious concerns about Bush’s judgment. But for all of Quayle’s problems, Bush still defeated Michael Dukakis in a rout – and almost certainly would have done so no matter whom he picked as a running mate. But because he gave in to the loudest voices on the right, he was stuck with Quayle and his chronically embarrassing episodes for the next four years.

This isn’t to suggest that the conservative prospects most commonly linked to McCain’s VP search process are Quayle-like. But Bush’s ’88 experience does illustrate how politically myopic most conservative leaders can be – and the price that a presidential nominee can pay for giving too much weight to their threats of mass defections.

As Obama and McCain mull their options, here's a look at the strategic calculations that produced recent VP choices from both parties—and whether those choices ultimately accomplished what they were supposed to.

2004

The choice: John Kerry picked John Edwards, his defeated primary rival.

The thinking: Party unity was a driving factor. The primaries hadn't been divisive at all—in part because Edwards calculated early on that Kerry was likely to win and began angling for the VP spot even while he was still a presidential candidate—but powerful forces within the party (both financial and activist) badly wanted Edwards on the ticket and made this clear to Kerry, whose personal preference was for Dick Gephardt.

Supposedly, Edwards would strengthen the ticket in rust-belt states (Ohio) and in the South, and his smooth communication skills would allow him to clobber Dick Cheney in the fall debate, the highest-profile moment for VP candidates.

Did it work?: No. Ohio went for Bush, the South remained a sea of red (even Edwards' North Carolina, which the Democrats lost by 13 points), and—amazingly—Edwards lost the debate to dour Dick Cheney. Worse, he and Kerry were never a good fit and didn't see eye-to-eye on strategy.

'08 equivalent: Obama picking Hillary Clinton or John McCain choosing Mitt Romney.

2000

The Democratic choice: Al Gore picked Joe Lieberman.

The thinking: Gore, ridiculed for being boring and predictable, had fallen well behind George W. Bush over the summer. Lieberman's selection, over John Kerry and Evan Bayh, would surprise the media and the political world and create some excitement, since no Jew had ever been nominated by a major party for national office. Lieberman would also help solve Gore's "Clinton problem," since he had been one of Clinton's harshest Democratic critics during the Lewinsky affair. His religion would also help the ticket in the crucial swing state of Florida.

Did it work?: Kind of. Initially, the pick was a huge plus, netting a wave of favorable press for a Gore campaign that badly needed it. But Lieberman was a mixed bag as a candidate: Dick Cheney clearly got the better of him in the vice-presidential debate, taking two weak Lieberman stabs at humor and throwing them right back in his face. His Florida legacy is a mixed bag, too. You could say that he did actually help Gore win the state, since the elderly (and mostly Jewish) voters who were fooled by the notorious butterfly ballot clearly intended to vote for the Gore-Lieberman ticket. But during the recount, Lieberman was fatally disloyal to Gore and the Democrats, using a Meet the Press appearance to kill one of their legal strategies by echoing a Republican talking point about the status of ballots from overseas military personnel.

'08 equivalent: McCain choosing Bobby Jindal.

The Republican choice: George W. Bush chose Dick Cheney

The thinking: Cheney, tapped by Bush to head his search committee, ultimately recommended himself (over former Missouri Senator John Danforth). The one-time Defense Secretary (under Bush's father) would add heft to the ticket, providing reassurance to voters who preferred Bush to Gore on a personal level but who were concerned about the Texas governor's lack of seasoning.

Did it work: Yes. The word "gravitas" must have been used two million times by media outlets reporting Bush's choice of Cheney, who hadn't yet accrued any of the baggage that as vice president has utterly ruined his standing with the general public. His debate with Joe Lieberman was dreadfully boring, but the most memorable moments came from Cheney, who provided surprisingly quick and witty retorts to a pair of Lieberman jokes.

'08 equivalent: Obama picking Sam Nunn. (Or maybe one of the other leaders of his search committee ...)

1996

The choice: Bob Dole chose Jack Kemp.

The thinking: After Colin Powell, who made his resistance abundantly clear, Kemp was seen as the closest thing to a home run for Dole—a broadly popular and well-known former athlete with strong support among the party's conservatives but with a reputation for reaching out to blacks, Hispanics and other constituencies long ignored by the G.O.P.

Did it work?: Not at all. Dole trailed Bill Clinton by about 20 points when he made the pick, which did generate some initial excitement, given Kemp's relative celebrity. But Dole and Kemp, who never got along much on Capitol Hill in the 1980s, were barely seen together after that and Kemp received little national press coverage. Kemp's fall efforts to appeal to minority voters—or to win over white independents who might like the idea of a Republican candidate reaching out to minorities—went nowhere and his performance in the VP debate with Al Gore, initially touted as a possible preview of the 2000 presidential election, was flat and widely panned—so bad that it ended most of the speculation about Kemp's future presidential prospects on the spot.

'08 equivalent: There may not be one. The closest thing the G.O.P. has to a star of Kemp's mid-‘90s standing is ... McCain. There are plenty of possible VPs for McCain who would be as acceptable to the party base as Kemp was, but none have his broad appeal. And Obama, who will be the first black nominee in major party history, is hardly in the position that Dole was in terms of needing to create enthusiasm and press attention. The Kemp example does highlight the downside of teaming up two thoroughly incompatible candidates in an effort to grab publicity.

1992

The choice: Bill Clinton picked Al Gore

The thinking: Running as the candidate of change and the first baby boomer ever to be nominated for president, Clinton opted for a pick that underscored his campaign's generational themes—and that ignored conventional wisdom that running mates should provide some kind of contrast to the presidential nominee, whether regional or ideological. Gore, the thinking went, would help Clinton nationally more than in any particular state.

Did it work: Yes. Gore did bring his home state of Tennessee into the fold (he did it again in '96, too), and his Southern roots probably made the Democratic ticket even more appealing in that region, helping the Democrats carry Georgia and Louisiana. The Clinton-Gore ticket is the only Democratic pairing to have made inroads in the South since Jimmy Carter in 1976. Plus, Gore performed well in his '92 debate against a surprisingly able Dan Quayle (not to mention James Stockdale, Ross Perot's running mate).

More importantly, Gore, then 44 years old, succeeded in reinforcing Clinton's generational message. The Clinton and Gore families took off on a memorable bus tour after the July Democratic convention, and the sounds and images of the confident and energetic boomers together stoked the desire for change in a country that had been ruled by the World War II generation for the previous 32 years.

'08 equivalent: Obama picking Mark Warner.

1988:

The Democratic choice g>: Michael Dukakis picked Lloyd Bentsen.