David Hinchcliffe: He's the double-domed thinker who introduced the resolution at the state Republican convention declaring this a Christian nation. He'd be perfect for a state packed to the borders with right-wing crazies.
Jim Brock: The ASU baseball coach is one of the great crybabies and self-promoters of the world. As such, he'd flourish in a situation where he could call press conferences and bully people who didn't bend to his every wish.
Jim Skelly: A former New York City bartender and avowed right winger and roundhead. He's long been an advocate of carrying concealed weapons. Once in office, Skelly would assure rash action. He might even call out the Arizona National Guard and have it burn all the abortion clinics in the state to the ground.
Leslie Whiting Johnson: I love a lady with a big hat and a tiny brain.
Wayne Stump: With Stump in charge, Arizona could finally fulfill its destiny as the looniest state in the Union.
Jane Hull: She's rash and opinionated enough to step in tomorrow and run Iran's death squads. No-nonsense approach. Once seriously advocated turning off all the air conditioning in Arizona prisons.
Evan Mecham: Memories are made of things like this.
Nancy Wessel: The state's most ridiculous female legislator.
Jerry Colangelo: He's already demonstrated he can run the city council. Why not give him a shot at the state legislature?
Gary Nelson: A former attorney general and disgraced lawyer, Nelson had the chutzpah this past year to apply for a vacancy on the Arizona Supreme Court. Why not try for the big one?
Jack Londen: The single biggest buffoon in the state, Londen would be a perfect choice to carry on a Mecham-style autocracy.
Eldon Rudd: Known as "Congressman Fudd" during his days in Washington. After ten totally undistinguished years in Congress, he left with better than $100,000 in campaign funds, which he was allowed to keep. He draws better than $50,000 a year in congressional pension plus additional pensions from the FBI and the Marine Corps.
Bob Corbin: Since Corbin would be packing his own concealed weapon, we could save funds by cutting down on the security detail protecting him. Besides, he's already been lobbying for the job more than a dozen years.
J. Fife Symington III: One of the great con men ever to hit the state. Do you remember all those ads proclaiming the wonders of his Camelback Esplanade? How do you like the traffic now? And what good does the Ritz-Carlton hotel actually do for you?
Rose Mofford: She has accomplished absolutely nothing during her time as governor. But it has been such a relief to have a do-nothing governor that she might just get elected.
Armand Verdone: Have you seen the Saab TV commercials in which Verdone simpers onto the screen to tell you what a wonderful car he's selling? Verdone has supplanted Lou Grubb as the state's sleaziest car dealer come to life. Verdone would make a classic Arizona governor.
Dr. Ted Diethrich: He loves the limelight. If he became governor, he could stop buying space to get his picture in the papers.
Burton Barr: He was the darling of the liquor lobby and every other special interest during all those years he ran the state legislature. Recently, Barr's been an adviser to Terry Goddard, which is another example of the fox guarding the henhouse.
Hawley Atkinson: For years he was a powerhouse as the most obstreperous member of the Maricopa County Board of Supervisors. The last time Atkinson was in power, he gave away a $4 million bridge. We need a man with imagination and a sense of daring.
John Rhodes: Why not one more go-around for good ol' Johnny? Before Rhodes left Congress he'd become one of the richest men in the House. He had stock holdings in 28 companies and partnerships in five others. He held stock in AT&T, Coca-Cola, Exxon, General Motors, and General Electric. His retirement benefits from Congress pay him $50,000 a year and a sweetheart deal as a lobbyist pays still another $60,000.
Burt Kruglick: The chairman of the state Republican party is one of the most pathetic political hacks ever to adorn the state's political scene. A race between him and Sam Goddard is something we all deserve.
John McCain: The junior senator is an opportunist of historic dimensions. Moved to Arizona on the advice of his pal John Tower to snare an easy congressional seat. For him, coming back as governor would be a letdown.
Richard Mallery: Power broker from Snell and Wilmer law firm. In recent years, Mallery has kept behind the scenes. But he has his fingers on some people's pulses and on a few others' throats.
Terry Goddard: A total failure as mayor and a classic yuppie con man. With Goddard as governor, the slick money boys would have as big a field day on a statewide basis as they've had on Central Avenue. Charles Harris: He's been athletic director at Arizona State four years now. The football program is stagnant, the basketball program is a shambles and the track program is nonexistent. If you can survive a record like that, politics would be a cinch.
Charles Keating: He spent so much money putting Dennis DeConcini and John McCain into office that he might as well use it to get himself a paying job. He may need it after the Phoenician resort folds.
Margaret Hance: Still a member of the board of directors of one of the city's biggest banks. When Hance, a loyal Reaganaut, stepped down as mayor of Phoenix, the downtown fixers gave her a new car, a gold and diamond watch, and a round trip ticket to London. Single-handedly, she could revive the moribund Phoenix 40.
Carolyn Warner: She's still around and boring everyone within range to death, assuring us how much she adores Arizona.
Carolyn Walker: It's time to move up. The telephone company's mouthpiece in the state legislature climbs the ladder.
Bill Schulz: He has the clammy charm of an undertaker and more money than Bunker Hunt used to have.
Herb Drinkwater: The state's most shameless publicity hound. His extremely limited intelligence prevents him from realizing he has become a public buffoon.
Bruce Babbitt: He didn't run for the Senate because he was afraid to take on John McCain. He ran for president on the off chance he might get appointed to a Cabinet post. Once he had it all. Now, all Bruce has left over from that campaign are his contact lenses and a membership in the Washington press club.
Paul Harvey: "Page 1: A wonderful day for Arizona. Traffic on the Superstition is moving briskly. My Cadillac is driving like a dream. My deodorant is delightful. Arizona is humming. And that's the rest of the story."