Reminding folks of his own war record, apparently in the belief that this audience had only just arrived from another galaxy, Kerry noted that he was a highly decorated veteran while Cheney received five deferments.
Though both statements are true, Cheney was among thousands who sought and received deferments for education, family or other commitments - all legal and considered honorable at the time.
Today those other deferred fellows are considerably older and probably feeling a little grumpy at the implication that they were less than patriotic. For decades Americans have tacitly agreed to an attitude of amnesty toward those who chose paths other than military service.
Kerry's decision to impugn all those people now seems a near-fatal miscalculation. Yet, characteristic of the entitled class to which he belongs, Kerry seeks to blame others, especially his campaign managers, for his flagging popularity.
In the past few days he has turned to his party's godfather, Bill Clinton, and his apparatchiks, campaign advisers James Carville and Paul Begala. Talk about heaping insult atop injury: No sooner does Kerry escape the shadow of Clinton's autobiographical oeuvre-in-one, "My Life," than the former president seizes the kliegs with chest pains.
Doling advice from his hospital bed, in between interviews with Larry King, Clinton urged Kerry to drop the Vietnam gig. The rest of the world would like to respectfully add that he also abandon windsurfing and lose the sporting wardrobe.
Given today's climate, in which girlie-men are juxtaposed against child-butchering terrorists, Kerry's daily checklist might include the question: What would Hemingway do?
Even so, with less than two months left until the election, new political directions may come too late. If being commander in chief is partly defined by one's strategic abilities in the heat of battle, Kerry would seem to have disqualified himself.
He is, alas, the wrong man in the wrong place at the wrong time, while W, it seems, stands for "winner."