Paul Thissen is statehouse's smartest, but is he ready to be governor?

"It's easily, easily the greatest accomplishment I've made at the Capitol," he says.

Nick Vlcek

Bradley Campbell

Details

SLIDESHOW: Meet Paul Thissen

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• Paul Thissen
• R.T. Rybak
• Barack Obama
• World Politics
• U.S. State Politics

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THE FINAL STOP OF THE NIGHT IS AT THE VFW in Osseo for a barn dance. It's dark outside as Thissen walks toward the entrance. People inside greet him warmly. They're clad in cowboy hats and denim, with bandanas around their necks and beer breath wafting from their mouths.

At the front of the long meeting hall is a string band atop a stage; behind them are cardboard cutouts of Michelle and Barack Obama, each wearing a cowboy hat. To the sides of the stage are several bales of hay.

For this event, the candidates have 90 seconds to stump, a time limit welcomed by all. To add Western flavor to the speeches, a female roper in high-waist denim stands to the side and twirls a lasso around her head as time winds down. If the candidates go over their time, she sends the rope their way.

Thissen is the last to go, and he speeds through his speech. People applaud and then get down to more important work: dancing. Soon enough a group snakes through the crowd hand-in-hand, grabbing Thissen to join in. The dance line ends in a circle at the front of the room, and a caller begins to bark out dance instructions with a do-si-do beat: "Promenade. Promenade. Spin left. Spin left. Promenade."

Thissen's face is a mix of hesitation and concentration. But when the first song ends he stays on the floor for another, and another after that. After a half-hour of dancing, he makes his way back to work the room and quips, "That's the best type of dancing, the one where they tell you what to do."

Soon enough, candidates begin to exit. The day was long and there's another full slate scheduled for tomorrow. Only a handful stay for the announcement of the straw poll results—Thissen takes fourth place, tied with "undecided."

As Thissen says his goodbyes and walks back to the car, he fields one last call. It's from his wife, and the conversation is short: He'll be home in half an hour. He slides his phone off, and for a brief moment, drifts entirely into his head.