NEWTON'S LAW: AMERICA IS STALLED IN TRAFFIC WHILE VOTERS HUNT FOR A LEADER

Picture this scenario: You are driving along a winding two-lane road and, for a long time, you encounter no oncoming traffic. Then, around one curve, you come upon a string of cars ten-deep in the opposite lane.

What do you assume?

Short of this being a funeral procession or pack psychology gone berserk, you would have to assume the lead driver favored the brake more than the accelerator and that the trailing motorists have rising blood pressures.

The cars move only as fast as the first in line.

Accept this analogy as a bumbling explanation for the sudden popularity of H. Ross Perot. In this billionaire and unlikely presidential candidate, some Americans see a flat stretch of road, a clear passing lane and someone who knows how to apply the gas.

This is what the 1992 presidential race has come to, a roster of Peggy Lee choices. (You look at them and her song comes to mind: "Is That All There Is?")

In Agatha Christie fashion, the Democratic offerings (never exactly a robust crew) were killed off one by one. Now, there are two, a scandal-plagued governor from a small state in the near South and a recycled Zenmaster whose foremost appeal is once having been Linda Ronstadt's steady.

The young creepy zealots who brandish George Bush buttons probably don't even remember Linda Ronstadt. Maybe they don't even remember George Bush. He's the one now in the White House, the one who waited until deep into his first term to learn that Americans want more from their president than a well-stamped passport and tail-kickings in Panama and Kuwait.

It only dawned on the president to get with the program once he discovered he didn't have one.

Enter Mr. Perot, a Texan not of the school that has a closetful of blazers and casual wear with wildlife embroidery. Perot hasn't spent a lifetime building a resume. Instead, if you'll pardon the ironic sentence structure, he's done nothing but get things done.

It's probably very telling that a nation in recession wants to turn over the reins to one of its richest citizens.

More telling, however, is that Americans seemingly feel the bounty of this nation is being turned over to hacks. Politicians of the sort we see now lack leadership skills sufficient to even convince frightened people to leave a burning building.

Perot, for all his awkward candor and indifference to holding high office, at least gives us some incentive to listen. And in a country where things need fixing, there is a glimmer of hope, if not outright evidence, that he can master the repairs. He might not know how to do it exactly, but a sense exists of some desire to act.

Maybe Perot's fatal flaw one the media and public will chew on in lieu studying the real issues has just failed to show itself yet.

A draft-dodger? A Naval Academy graduate, he spent four years at sea; besides, whenever he's favored military action, Perot hasn't waited for the country to give orders.

A philanderer? Billionaires who want female companionship seldom have trouble finding it. There are no scandals yet.

A pot smoker? Men who roam the range have been known to light up ditchweed now and then ... but maybe Perot didn't inhale.

The curious thing is that procuring this man almost sight unseen in the grand perspective of candidate scrutiny doesn't seem like such an eccentric notion. Americans are willing to buy in if a candidate says things that make sense and don't sound like political lines that have been countlessly repeated.

America can properly view itself as a sleek, racing machine. Lately, it has been held up in traffic. The country cries out for a leader.