After that, McCain will begin a cross-country tour emphasizing his life story. His advisers believe that while most Americans have a vague sense that McCain served his country in the military and in political life, they don't actually know his story. This trip--the "Service to America" tour--is intended to fill out that narrative. It will feature stops in cities and towns that have somehow shaped his life. Among them: McCain Field in Mississippi; the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland, where McCain graduated fifth from the bottom of his class; Pensacola, Florida, where he trained at the Pensacola Naval Air Station; and Jacksonville, Florida, where he lived upon returning from his time as a POW in Vietnam. At each stop, the campaign will emphasize one aspect of McCain's character and talk about why it will be important in the White House.

In the months ahead, as he gives definition to his general election campaign, McCain will spend a good chunk of his time visiting places "where Republicans are not often seen," says an adviser. "Inner cities, poor rural communities, places left behind." He will speak to concerns about the economy and unveil an "empowerment" agenda designed to serve as a

Not surprisingly, Jack Kemp likes the idea. "I would expect John to do a tour like that," says Kemp, who is advising McCain. "When he came to the House in 1982, he was a strong supporter of enterprise zones. And as a senator from Arizona, he has done a lot for Native Americans, Latinos, Hispanics. His stance on immigration was by far the most positive in the GOP primaries. He's comfortable with people who are not WASPy Republicans, not country club Republicans, and that's what makes some of our friends on the right very nervous. He can reach out to Reagan Democrats, independents, and people of color."

This plan was hatched before Hillary Clinton's successful night last Tuesday, when a McCain-Obama contest looked likely. Obama has struggled to win votes from what pollsters describe as "down-market" voters, and McCain advisers are confident their candidate can pick some of them up. Even if Clinton is the nominee, McCain's outreach to these voters could help him appeal to her main constituency, women.

McCain's general election campaign will be unconventional in two other aspects, as well. He will continue to provide reporters with virtually limitless opportunities to ask him questions in sessions on his campaign bus and in almost daily media availabilities. And most of his public events will be town halls, not speeches, something that will provide a stark contrast to the tightly controlled campaign of either Barack Obama or Hillary Clinton.

The practical reason for this is obvious: He needs the "free media" coverage to offset what will be a huge disadvantage in paid media such as TV and radio ads. But McCain also enjoys these interactions with reporters and journalists. He says he needs the intellectual stimulation in order to keep the long days of the campaign from getting boring or repetitive.

The town halls, in particular, present risks. Some crackpot could ask McCain about something obscure in an effort to trip him up--say, a question about his plans for the president's working group on financial markets. Oh wait, that was Ron Paul during a presidential debate. Same idea. Still, because the campaign does not control which audience members get time with the microphone, McCain is sometimes left to clean up a potential mess on his own.

At the Armadillo Palace in Houston, for instance, one voter had a rather unique reason for supporting McCain. "Unlike other candidates in the race, if Cindy answers the phone at 3 A.M., she won't have to wonder where her husband is." The audience shouted its delight. But McCain wasn't happy. "I don't associate myself--even though it was meant in humor--I want to assure you what we will have in this event is a respectful campaign and I will respect Senator Obama and Senator Clinton."

Fair enough. But McCain has a very sensitive ear to perceived insults, and he is quick--sometimes too quick--to profess his dedication to a civil campaign. In Waco, Texas, one night before he secured the nomination, McCain took a question from a man who mistakenly addressed him as "President McCain." The audience laughed, then applauded, and the questioner joked that McCain could pay him the agreed upon $10 after he was done. More laughs. McCain had turned in a stiff performance until this point and the voter was doing him a favor by loosening up the audience. Basking in the love he'd gotten from the audience, the guy introduced his real question with another joke. "First, I want to make a comment that I feel Mrs. McCain will be a lot better first lady than Bill Clinton would."

It was a harmless remark and people loved it. But McCain felt the need to create some distance. "I take the humor," McCain said, turning serious. "I would like to point out that I will conduct a respectful campaign. We will respect all of our opponents and their spouses in this campaign." The crowd fell silent and in two seconds he had sucked the enthusiasm out of the room.

There are other risks to talking this much in public and to the press. It increases the likelihood that the candidate will make a mistake or say something that can be taken out of context by his opponents. Last year, McCain drew attention to himself when he joked about war with Iran by singing "Bomb Iran" to the tune of the Beach Boys' "Barbara Ann." He said he was not troubled by the prospect of a low-level, long-term U.S. presence of Iraq for 100 years, a remark that has been taken out of context and used against him by the Democrats. And last week, he leapt awkwardly into the long-simmering controversy about whether children's vaccinations can lead to autism.

McCain's team isn't worried. "Voters are not going to focus on a bunch of little stuff," says Steve Schmidt, a top McCain adviser. "They'll get the big-picture stuff that this election will be decided on."

Stephen F. Hayes is a senior writer at THE WEEKLY STANDARD.