After waking up to the results of the Iowa caucuses, the state Capitol in Atlanta was of two minds on Tuesday.

Republicans were disappointed that erstwhile front-runner Howard Dean hadn't kept his primal scream to himself until he had the Democratic presidential nomination sewn up.

And a good many Democrats were heaving a sigh of relief at the news that they might be able to avoid jumping on a Dean bandwagon that would have taken them places they didn't particularly want to go.

Roughly 120,000 Iowa voters reshaped next week's New Hampshire primary, not to mention an entire presidential campaign. They have made South Carolina's Feb. 3 primary crucial, and Georgia's March 2 relevant.

Though they surely didn't realize it, these Midwestern strangers also have rescued the public faces of two Georgia politicians: former Gov. Roy Barnes and former U.S. Sen. Max Cleland, both defeated in November 2002.

Both men have been in some form of self-imposed seclusion for the past 15 months. But as the Democratic campaign for president heads South, both will become crucial front men -- Barnes for fellow attorney John Edwards of North Carolina, and Cleland for fellow veteran John Kerry.

Cleland is at the center of Kerry's burgeoning veterans movement, but he and Barnes both have excellent credentials with African-American voters, who will become more crucial after New Hampshire.

Cleland spent the past week in Iowa, campaigning for Kerry with an intensity that we never saw when he was campaigning for himself.

Cleland was waiting in line at the Des Moines airport Tuesday, headed home to Washington to do his laundry. Then on to New Hampshire. "You're going to see a whole lot more of Max everywhere John Kerry goes," Cleland said.

The former Georgia senator, who has made only rare appearances in Georgia since his defeat, was clearly on an adrenaline high. This is the earliest he's been on board with a hot presidential campaign -- a federal job kept him from campaigning as part of Jimmy Carter's Peanut Brigade in 1976.

"We're putting together for the first time in modern history a veterans' brigade -- a band of brothers," Cleland said.

Barnes was a little more subdued Tuesday. He'd just gotten an e-mail from the Edwards campaign that morning, asking if he was in a position to clear his schedule and head to South Carolina. Barnes said he wasn't sure.

"But I did a radio call-in program up in New Hampshire for him about two weeks ago," Barnes said. They liked the soft, slow accent.

Prior to Bush's State of the Union address, a tete-a-tete-a-tete to keep things popping in Georgia|

With only hours to go before the evening's State of the Union address, a pair of Georgia congressmen on Tuesday afternoon pulled U.S. Attorney Rick Thompson of Savannah into a small hideaway office in the U.S. Capitol.

The two-on-one session in Washington, conducted by U.S. Reps. Jack Kingston of Savannah and Charlie Norwood of Augusta, was intended to persuade Thompson to withdraw a notice that he intends to resign his appointed position. Thompson is pursuing at least a pair of investigations that have prominent Democrats in the cross hairs.

Last spring, Thompson's office began investigating whether new House Speaker Terry Coleman had used campaign contributions to pay personal expenses.

Thompson's office also is investigating various businesses owned by former state Senate Majority Leader Charles Walker. Investigators have confiscated records from Walker's weekly newspaper, and from a charity football game he stages.

It wasn't clear whether the Kingston-Norwood tag team had an effect -- Kingston was one of President Bush's escorts and had to run to his duties. But we're told Thompson wants out to pursue private options, not a political career.

Chambliss recovering

U.S. Sen. Saxby Chambliss ended up watching President Bush's SOTU address from a hospital bed in Moultrie. He began suffering severe stomach pains Saturday night and had his appendix removed Sunday. He's expected to leave the Colquitt County Regional Medical Center today.

He's lucky -- he just got back from a trip to Asia, and was about to head to Switzerland.

Clearly, if flaggers can't find a sponsor for their legislation to change the terms of the March 2 flag referendum, their cause is in dire straits. And yet they persevere.

One of the latest e-mails making the rounds takes into account that some of their number may not have the money for a flagpole from which to fly the passed-over '56 state flag and its Confederate battle emblem. They've found a solution that depends first on locating two trees about 30 to 50 feet apart.

Then it's suggested that true Confederate patriots do the following:

"Break a brick in half. Tie a cord to the brick and run it about 30 feet and tie it to your flag. Run a 30-foot line from the flag to the other brick.

"Each of two men can toss a half brick high into "his" treetop at the same time. The thrill comes when the flag is jerked about 30 feet into the air between the trees and out of reach.