Louisiana Gov. Kathleen Blanco called Gov. Mike Easley last week to wish North Carolina good luck with Ophelia. Easley said he sure appreciated the call.

Although Easley was too polite to mention it, North Carolina, a state with a history of good, sober government, probably does not have a lot to learn from Louisiana, which critics have long called America's banana republic.

Louisiana has, after all, been governed by Huey "The Kingfish" Long and his brother Earl (beau of stripper Blaze Starr), Jimmie "You Are My Sunshine" Davis and Edwin Edwards, who once remarked that the only way he could be defeated was "if I get caught in bed with a dead girl or a live boy." Easley's main sin, it seems, is fast cars. (He has wrecked one stock car and lost control of another.)

A hurricane is one of the few occasions in which the general public pays close attention to its governor and that person has a chance to show -- or not show -- leadership.

Although Easley's attitude toward news conferences is similar to that of a Baptist preacher toward New Orleans strip joints, the governor held daily news conferences last week and issued updates on the status of the hurricane, what residents should do and what the state was doing to mobilize the National Guard and Highway Patrol.

Easley had on his game face -- and his game clothes. Suit on Tuesday, denim shirt Wednesday, knit shirt Thursday. (We may be thankful that the storm didn't last any longer.)

It was high political theater. Easley stood before the TV cameras with the commanders of the National Guard and the Highway Patrol and the secretary of crime control at his side.

Behind him was a blown-up National Weather Service radar image of Ophelia -- a big, ominous, swirling cloud that looked as though it might be an alien from outer space descending on Eastern North Carolina.

Easley did well. He looked and sounded gubernatorial. He was in command of his facts. TV is his medium, and it has been ever since political guru Walter DeVries shot Easley's first TV ads when he was running for re-election as district attorney in southeastern North Carolina.

Such moments can make or break a governor. Democratic Gov. Jim Hunt's sure-footed response to Hurricane Fran in the fall of 1996 helped him easily defeat Republican Robin Hayes in the general election. (Hunt was embarrassed in the early 1980s when a memo from an aide leaked out saying the governor needed a good natural disaster to show his leadership skills.)

Easley had a particular reason to be interested in Ophelia. After all, he had recently remodeled his house at Southport.

Even though Easley grew up in Rocky Mount and now resides in Raleigh, he is arguably our first coastal governor since J.C.B. Ehringhaus (1933-37) of Elizabeth City.

Easley first made his reputation prosecuting smugglers bringing marijuana into Brunswick County's coves. He considers Southport home, and he escapes the pressures of Raleigh to head to the coast and do a little sailing every chance he gets.

So when Easley sternly warned people to evacuate the coast as Ophelia approached last week, he was not just acting as governor. He was also providing a little neighborly advice.