For an American to steal every heart in Paris it takes an extraordinary achievement of a rare kind.

Lance Armstrong did it on a bicycle. Jackie Kennedy did it on the arm of her husband. G.I. Joe did it from the top of a tank. And Ben Franklin did it in a bear skin hat. What they wore or what they rode didn't matter nearly as much as what they represented ­ youth, vitality, power, imagination, and unquenchable resolve.

On the best street in the Old World, under the glittering arc of a Monument designed for ageless triumph, all this was on high display last Sunday. From the best of the New World came The Right Stuff. Just when America needed Lance the most, Lance was there to give his most.

Many of us alive today can claim one or more of these images as personally special. For me it was Jackie; for my Dad's generation, it was G.I. Joe. For both of us, the fact is the older we get, the more important are the memories.

But you didn't have to be in Paris when Jackie stole Jack's show. And you didn't have to personally witness either yellow jersey or blood stained uniform to get the point of the victory in 2004 ­­ or the one in 1944. The cameras were there and juice-stewing photos are now stored within easy reach of a few mouse clicks.

Magnifique' is what the French would say; and that's as good a word as any.

But what of Ben himself? In our own mind's eye, whether American or non-American, Ben's images just don't compare to the ones we have of Jackie's grace or Joe's dented helmet, Camels, Hersheys, and an all-American grin. Or of Lance in bright yellow, both arms extended, the world's premier bike riders all in tow.

Where is Ben in our collective memory banks?

In our Google-ized world the masters of search engine delivery can point us to several million web pages directly connected to a man loved as much in Paris as in Philadelphia. Rightfully so. It's not for nothing Ben's portrait is printed on America's one hundred dollar bill. Yes ­­ six straight Tour victories is awesome indeed. But how does that performance compare to Ben's Way to Wealth ­­ with world-wide circulation exceeded only by the bible?

Sure, Jackie brought us deep pride and Joe got us to Berlin. But how does that compare to Franklin's gift to General Washington ­­ the French navy at the tipping point of the War. Inside the Pantheon of History, what seat deserves a more honored place than Ben's?
On January 17, 2006 Ben turns 300 ­­ our one big chance to plant some images deserving of this giant of a man. Our plan ­­ with curtain up on July 4, 2005 and down on December 31, 2006 ­­ is to cement Ben's image in the mind's of several hundred million. Our plan is to make that happen from Prague to Perth, from Capetown to Cairo, from Anchorage to Santiago.

It is no small task. And the work must begin right away.

Generously, the Pew Foundation has granted four million dollars to ensure a grand celebration. Already, the Smithsonian, Philadelphia's Benjamin Franklin Institute and the high and mighty from the 'City of Brotherly Love' are in steady preparation. Be assured that on January 17, '06, there will be loud trumpets from the White House, the Senate and the Congress. It's a celebration that will make front page news from the New York Times to the Honolulu Gazette. And, if we have our way, from the London Times to the Sydney Herald as well.

To this end, we have a brand new initiative: The Franklin Ambassador Program.

Starting next month, we will be seeking 130 very ambitious Americans who are willing take to heart Ben's wisest advice: