With millions of Americans unemployed, the war eating billions of dollars and the budget surplus gone, President Bush must swiftly find an austere new model for his presidency. That model is right at hand: Mayor Bloomberg.

Faced with deficits, Bloomberg is cutting his personal City Hall staff by 20%. Bush could do the same, ridding the White House and its adjacent areaways of the most useless hacks now nourished by the labor of American taxpayers. He could even make a supreme sacrifice: fire all but two of his speechwriters.

Bloomberg is asking all New York City agencies to cut back, too. Efficient bureaucracies are essential to every government, but all bureaucracies have their share of incompetent, lazy or burned-out jobholders. Bloomberg insists that such blubber be trimmed. Bush could do the same in every department of the federal government, including the Pentagon.

Bloomberg has pledged to use public transportation at least once a day while mayor, and he took the subway to the swearing-in ceremony at City Hall. The move was splendid as symbolism and sensible as time management: The subways are faster than any limousine. Bush can't really use a subway. Even if he could, the MetroCard is surely as alien to him as supermarket prices were to his father. But once a month, he could take a commercial airliner to his pep rallies and fund-raisers.

Preaching, Not Practicing

We all remember his thrilling, defiant speeches to Americans, urging them all to fly. To go places. To get up in the sky again, proving that the terrorists could not win. But so far, he hasn't used one of those commercial jets himself. When he has to go somewhere, he boards Air Force One and can see a half-dozen F-16 escorts from his window.

But for the sake of shared sacrifice, why not submit himself once a month to the experience of defying those terrorists by undergoing the experience of ordinary Americans?

The President could wait on the long, twisting lines. He could drop his keys and change into one of those grungy plastic boxes. He could walk through the metal detectors, get frisked if his belt buckle beeps, take off his shoes for scrutiny, and then wait in the passenger lounge for 2 1/2 hours.

The Secret Service could bring along the communications gear, to stay in touch with world leaders, and a deck of cards for pinochle. But Bush would show Americans that he is one of them, not an imperial demigod. The airline industry would be ecstatic. And, by God, he would show those terrorists that they cannot win.

W Could Take Salary Cut

Bloomberg also has reduced his own annual salary as mayor to $1 and will live in his own house, not the gloomy, gated majesty of Gracie Mansion. We can't expect the President to abandon the White House for a house in Georgetown. If he did, the terrorist crackpots, after analyzing each other's dreams, would toast Allah in triumph.

But in solidarity with all the more than 1 million Americans who have lost jobs since he took office, the President could cut his own annual salary to $1. Perhaps he could donate the difference to a new all-Texas fund that would try to make up the total losses of 401(k) money that vanished when his friends at Enron were unloading their own stocks.

The President's good ol' Houston-based buddies, starting with Enron honcho Kenneth Lay, are reported to have cashed in more than $100 million in stocks when they realized the jig was up in their shell game. More than 5,600 loyal employees (including 1,100 in Europe) naively invested about 58% of their 401(k) money in Enron stock. Unlike the bosses, those employees couldn't sell their stocks. Many have been wiped out. Bush should make them the beneficiaries of compassionate conservatism, urging both parties to return all Enron campaign contributions to those ruined employees.

In emulation of Bloomberg, Bush also should make a major speech, laying out in straight talk his vision of the American future, in a time when we might have to fight war after war. At his own inauguration, Bloomberg talked straight, accepting the new limits. "The facts are clear," he said. "We will not be able to afford all that we want. We will not even be able to afford everything we currently have."

Fair enough. In that same spirit, Bush should explain again why we must fight the war on terrorism and evil on a series of battlefields (most of them, of course, to be chosen by "weaponized" Washington columnists and talk show hosts). But he must admit that this will be difficult to do when the federal government is going broke.

Powerball, Anyone?

The President can state again that taxes can't be raised (as Bloomberg did), and with his customary elegance, once more figuratively offer his dead body as the guarantee. But he can do what Bloomberg can't: announce imaginative new plans to "enhance" revenue.

For example, he could revive U.S. war bonds, selling bonds for say, $75, that would be redeemed in 10 years for $100. Such bonds helped finance World War II and later put many kids through college

In addition, the President could start a federal variation of Powerball — as many underfinanced states do — with tickets sold in every state, and prizes that are four times the reward money offered for Osama Bin Laden. Money would roll in, with the unemployed buying many of the tickets, therefore finding renewed reason for hope. Tom Ridge would be the perfect head of the Federal Powerball Authority.

At the same time, Bush could set up a Voluntary Patriotism Fund, where for $100 every American could buy an Official U.S. American Flag Lapel Pin, one that would cost a measly 14 cents to produce in Sri Lanka. For $500, the same fund could offer recordings of Kate Smith singing "God Bless America." And the fund could sell official American flags for $1,000, autographed by the President, and sure to become collector's items. In times of crisis, a leader must use every tool at his disposal.

In these varied ways, Bush could give every patriotic American the personal chance to finance the war on terror and evil, without paying more taxes. Like Bloomberg, he could admit that for the duration of the war his administration won't be able to afford all that it wants to do. But yes, he could say, looking all of us straight in the eye: We will have guns, butter and airline reservations.