The Unbearable Lightness of Victor

A reporter from the Stephenville paper asks for an interview. Morales gets a few seconds on a country-and-western radio station broadcasting live from the park. "Even if I lose," he says afterward, "I've made a lot of people happy."

By late afternoon, Morales is back in his truck heading for home. He's shaken a few dozen more hands today, made a few dozen more friends. And he still hasn't articulated a single firm stand on an issue or advanced a single specific insight into what voters might expect if he is elected to the Senate.

For the most part, he's talked about what an open, honest, caring guy he is. And the people have listened. Morales is glowing during the ride home. "People constantly were reaffirming that they are proud of this--of what I've done," he says. "They've heard of me. They'll tell people they've met Victor Morales.

"It's sad right now," Morales adds. "You know, people are going around saying I don't have any issues. It's kind of an insult, to bring me down as a nice, hardworking guy who's out of his league. I'm proud of myself. But I'm a realist. I know the odds. Don't you ever go against the odds?"

Sure, Victor. But if every nice guy with a pickup ran for Senate, that St. Patrick's Day parade would still be going on today.