All it takes is living. A week, a day of moving through this American life as an average traveler. It could save our presidential candidates all the time and money spent in meetings with overpriced "policy" advisers and pollsters who are telling them what all us "average people" are thinking about and therefore how they need to shape that next speech, that next television interview in order to appeal to the ill-defined typical voter out there.

Armies of geniuses do this, you know.

"Senator, our polls show that people are concerned about health care ... we'll work up some thoughts on that."

"Senator, our people on the ground tell us there seems to be some distress about gas prices."

"Senator, for some reason, the economy appears unstable because of worry about jobs."

These armies march on with their wisdom. But the best thing that could happen to candidates would be to somehow drape themselves in anonymity for 24 hours and just live. Just see, up close, what people are enduring, in order to endure. Not by asking, but by living.

And so, here's a little sample of 24 hours of living, and how it ought to speak to Sens. Clinton, Obama and McCain as they venture forth to tell us all what they're going to do for us:

* The coffee shop talk, sometime just after the North Carolina political primary, began with the latest bad news from Iraq ... another brave lad with North Carolina connections killed. It continued with more despairing about the course of things, of how this war began with promises of its crucial importance, continued with the now-infamous "mission accomplished" speech, has meandered from occasional optimism to bitter reflection on how this was to be a simple, quick war followed by a nice, neat exit for American soldiers through the flower-strewn streets of Iraq. Confusion seems the only constant.

Here's one lesson for our candidates from this slice of our 24 hours of living, and what people want. The geopolitical reasons for getting in can be debated decades hence, but the people want someone with a coherent plan, and a resolve to get our people home.

* They arrived at the hospital emergency room at 6 p.m. This was a flareup of a chronic problem that had persisted but had now become one of those chronic things that turn acute. The doctor's office was closed, and the urgent care places didn't have the gear needed to properly diagnose the issue. The recommended solution was the hospital. It was a weeknight.

In the waiting room were families. A young man groaned and kept calling loudly for help. An elderly couple sat quietly, with the patience of people who had been there before. The emergency room workers were polite beyond all expectations, though they acknowledged they were overwhelmed this night. The room kept filling.

Inside, at last, a good doctor did his job well, made the right diagnosis, tried to act as if he weren't rushed even as more stretchers were wheeled in behind him. They left the hospital. It was 3 a.m.

So here's another lesson, for our would-be presidents: The people want a health-care system that works. One that isn't run by insurance and drug companies and bureaucrats, but by people, like the ones who gave it their best that night.

* The ride to Greensboro was about to begin, and the car pulled up to the neighborhood station. Regular gas was $3.759 cents a gallon. There are trips that aren't taken now, and pizzas that aren't ordered, much less dinner out. The White House and Congress say they're distressed, but nothing can be done. The market, you know -- so we'll just have to buy less, and then maybe the prices will go down.

So here it is, then, this additional lesson from one day: The people don't expect free gas, or even cheap gas, but they do expect leaders who will do something. They expect leaders who will negotiate with foreign oil powers, not just shrug their shoulders in frustration. They expect leaders who get it, who understand how gas prices hurt every business small and large, every citizen, and not one who will say in response to a question about $4 a gallon gas, "Oh? I hadn't heard that."

* Inside a mall later, a couple of fellows were overheard talking about how one of them had been laid off. He's middle-aged and doesn't know what he'll do. He retains a measure of hope, and was heard to say, "I guess it could be worse. If all I knew how to do was textile work, you know, I'd really be desperate. But I think I can find something."

The lesson, candidates, is that the people don't want everything handed to them. They want the opportunity they grew up with. They want jobs, to build something, to believe hard work still matters. It doesn't seem like too much to ask.