Amidst one of the most peaceful and least tumultuous periods in the nation’s history, a time when being president of the United States can seem less important than being chairman of the Metro school board, our two native-son presidential candidates—Prince Albert and Saint Lamar—continue, hell-bent, on their personal missions to become the 43rd man to occupy the White House.

In their campaigns Al Gore, 49, and Lamar Alexander, 57, face different challenges and different constituencies. What’s more, they have different personal assets as politicians. And yet they are very similar, in ways that go far beyond their far-too-evident bald spots.

Each stands a fair chance of becoming his party’s presidential nominee. Judging by what most of the national media are writing, it looks as if Gore has a lock on the Democratic nomination. This week even the Sunday New York Times Magazine seemed to accept that as a given. But perhaps the surest sign of Prince Albert’s blessing from the capital city’s aristocracy came from Washington Post writer Sally Quinn, who recently stated that most people in her circle of friends are of the opinion that ”Al Gore is a truly decent man. And I just adore Tipper.“

If the nation’s liberal media establishment and Washington’s cocktail class are so ready to embrace the Gores, it’s a fair bet that Lamar hasn’t told Honey to start measuring for new curtains in the house on Pennsylvania Avenue. Still, Alexander deserves more credit than most give him for the campaign he has built. He is showing much more strength at this stage of his campaign than he did at a similar time four years ago. And remember, he almost won the damn thing in ’96.

In a recent poll conducted by the Des Moines Register, Alexander was running neck-and-neck with Texas Gov. George Bush as the Republicans’ likely nominee. (Bush—16; Alexander—15; Jack Kemp and Dan Quayle—14 each.) Alexander has everything but a formal endorsement from Iowa’s four-term governor, Terry Branstad, and he has wrapped up much of the governor’s support in that state. Brian Kennedy, former chair of Iowa’s state GOP, has moved to Nashville to work full-time for Lamar. Alexander has also hired a scheduler and a press person from Iowa to work in his Nashville campaign headquarters.

Meanwhile, Alexander is making frequent visits to New Hampshire. He has staffed a full-time office there, and, as in Iowa, has recruited a popular figure—in this case Republican operative Tom Rath—to help his campaign. In a recent poll by station WMUR-Channel 9, New Hampshire’s only statewide television station, Alexander placed fourth behind Bush, Kemp, and Steve Forbes. Conventional wisdom holds that Alexander is positioned well, even if he isn’t leading the pack.

It may seem an unlikely scenario, but there is a chance that we might indeed witness the ultimate of ultimate confrontations in Tennessee political history. In other words, Gore might one day face Alexander for the presidency.

Not only would that situation mean migraine headaches among the state’s political players, who would have to choose between Al and Tipper and Honey and Lamar, but it would also bring three or four dozen curious reporters from California to New York to hotels and motels near you. The media would be focused on Tennessee in a way that virtually boggles the mind.

Who would be interviewed? What would the country say about us? Who would get caught up in scandal? Where would the indictments fall?

Separated at birth

Alexander and Gore may have different political ideologies, but, as men, they are strikingly similar. Both are cerebral and careful to a fault. Each has been known at times to veer off into sanctimonious behavior. And each is deeply concerned with image-building. (Both men are extraordinarily conscious of how their every utterance, move, step, and decision might play into the conclusions voters draw about them.)

Neither of them is very good at doing the warm and fuzzy, and, as a result, neither finds it easy to make political alliances. Both have to work hard at making friends, but there is hardly anybody in politics who can outwork either Gore or Alexander. Both men understand their limitations, and they strive to overcome them with a mix of mental and physical determination.

When the young Alexander first ran for the Tennessee governership in 1974—a race he lost to Ray Blanton—reporters recall traveling with him on airplanes and barely being able to engage him in conversation. After losing that election, Alexander made a detailed, highly personal analysis of his failure. Then he revamped his campaign style, his campaign team, and his personal message to connect more with voters. In 1978 he ran a campaign that he was more comfortable with, and one that made him more appealing to voters. In the four years since his 1974 loss, a whole new Alexander emerged, and he won the election. The shy dweeb was suddenly a full-blown politician. He had taught himself to do politics.

If Alexander conquered his own social inadequacies, Gore chose to button them up inside a blue suit. The rest of the nation has begun deconstructing Gore’s incredible stiffness, but Tennessee reporters have long known he simply has a problem talking to people. While Gore was adept at moving up the political food chain, he never had the political skills of your average West Tennessee county commissioner. To make up for his shortcomings, reporters assumed, Gore just adopted the straight-man pose: Stand stiff, put out hand, shake hand, smile.

However, when it clicks into full gear, Gore’s robotic campaign style stands him in good stead. Gore the campaigner is a round-the-clock machine, never halting, never stopping, never needing an oil change. He simply forces himself to do what’s necessary to succeed in politics. It’s the tradeoff he makes for being able to spend his downtime being titillated by mind-warping hobbyhorses such as global warming and Internet technology.

Gore and Alexander have both made accommodations for their personal goofiness so that they can pursue the ethereal goal of governing, yet each has his more down-to-earth passions. Each is familiar with the workings of the media, and, if they were not so often being beat up by journalists, both would probably demonstrate a real fondness for the fourth estate. Alexander put in a brief stint as a reporter at the Nashville Banner and was owner of the Knoxville Journal for a short while. In his 1994 presidential campaign, insiders say, Alexander delegated virtually everything to subordinates, but he still spent his own time reviewing the work of his press secretaries. (He loved doing it; the press secretaries hated it.) Gore, early on, put in time at The Tennessean. In recent interviews he has said that, if he had not gone into public service, he would have become a writer.

Gore is the author of Earth in the Balance, an environmental tome that has fewer giggles than Henry David Thoreau. Alexander has written several books, including a popular memoir of his family’s sojourn in Australia. (A critical assessment: Gore is a clunky writer, prone to long, complex sentences. Alexander is more breezy, more descriptive, cleaner.)

Men of tomorrow

Roughly speaking, both Alexander and Gore could be described as ”futurists.“ The political implications of that label are obvious, for each man is attempting to position himself as a candidate for the new millennium, a candidate ready to embrace change, a candidate eager for new beginnings.

Gore plays the role of forward-looking thinker better than Alexander does. But Alexander can instill more poetry into his plans for the new millennium. Unfortunately, Gore will attack the 2000 campaign with his overly deliberative speaking style, replete with predictions about what technology will look like in the new century, what new cancer treatments will be developed, what new, dramatic changes are in store for us in communications. Sounding like a cassette recording of Alvin Toffler, he will shake his fist and raise his voice, but, unless something dramatic happens between now and then to make him seem more human, he may not be able to help voters get excited about the real potential of the 21st century.

Alexander, on the other hand, is more artful. While his mind is crammed with less data than Gore’s, and while Alexander actually seems to take some pleasure in being viewed as something of an East Tennessee farmboy, he does have a unique gift for sensing the mood of the people and then telling them where they want to go. Being that kind of ”futurist,“ Alexander may be able to give voters a more comprehensible, positive vision of the future, one that seems to come from the heart, not just from the mind.

Both Gore and Alexander have run presidential races in the past: Alexander ran a surprisingly strong campaign in the 1996 election, only to be bumped out of contention by Bob Dole in New Hampshire; Gore ran a strong, South-centric campaign in the 1988 presidential race, only to find that his hawkish conservatism had little appeal outside Dixie.

Each man offers the nation considerable strengths. To some voters, Gore’s pluses will include his experience in foreign affairs, his hands-on governing in Washington, and his ability to counterbalance the Republican congress. For better or worse, many will see Gore as Clinton, with his zipper up.

Alexander, for his part, will have to play the outside revolutionary, the change-agent, the man who arrived from Tennessee to do the will of the nation. He has to get the Democrats out of office, and Alexander likes playing the role of knight in white armor. But if he is to succeed, Alexander must have a specific vision upon which to base his revolution.

The election is over two years away. Between now and then, we will have more scandals, bimbo eruptions, surprise candidates, reports of pot smoking, and illegal campaign contributions. In the end, though, none of that will matter.

Because right now, with the world at peace, it’s still the economy, stupid. Advantage: Gore.