I regret to say the Minneapolis Institute of Arts will not be open until 4 a.m. during the Republican National Convention in September.

"We have no intention of staying open until 4 in the morning," said Brian Palmer, chairman of the institute's board of trustees. "But it might make a worthy alternative to some of the other late-night activities."

No kidding.

We have great things to see in the Twin Cities, and most won't cut into drinking time.

Here's one: The Institute of Arts (open until 5 p.m., 9 on Thursdays ) is planning an exhibit of presidential art and artifacts, ranging from a Teddy Roosevelt mechanical bank (put in a coin and T.R. "shoots" a bear) to a Christmas card signed by John F. Kennedy, and his wife, Jackie, but never sent: The president was assassinated before it could be mailed.

The exhibit, called "Hail to the Chief: Images of the American Presidency," runs Aug. 2 through Sept. 21. Other than hunting for a perfect "Minnesota State Bird" mosquito gag gift, I can't think of anything better for a Republican to do.

A Republican, in fact, helped make this exhibit possible: An "angry" Republican named Kim Anderson. Angry Republicans -- and Democrats -- are in the majority these days. But Anderson is an angry American who does something about things when he gets mad.

And he's mad now.

"I'm an angry Republican, an angry American, who is proud of my country but angry about the lack of leadership, in both parties," he says. "We're at a point when we're totally underestimating our abilities."

You can read that different ways, but Anderson, 62, has an indisputable love for the presidency (he's met six presidents -- Nixon, Ford, Carter, Reagan, George H. W. Bush and Bill Clinton). A businessman from North Oaks who has amassed a personal collection of presidential artifacts, Anderson (and his wife, Gloria) is lending many to the Institute.

A former trustee of the institute, he started collecting presidential objects in 1967, when he was a law student upset about the country's muddled Vietnam War policy. He sent an angry letter to President Lyndon Johnson and received, in reply, a letter suggesting he should apply for a White House fellowship. He didn't, but he visited the White House.

"It knocked me over," said Anderson, whose companies make car parts. "I learned you have to look really deep inside a presidency in order to understand the character of the president. I started collecting everything I could get my hands on, and I never stopped."

"Hail to the Chief" might not be as exciting as an Oval Office Gin Bomb at 3:45 a.m., but it won't leave you with a hangover. Just a thirst to learn more about your country.

Half of the objects in the exhibit will be selected from the Institute's collection, ranging from a bust of George W. (the original Washington) to a World War II poster venerating the just-deceased Franklin D. Roosevelt. The other half of the items in the exhibit come from Anderson and collector James Dicke II, of Ohio.

One of Anderson's items is a flag embroidered with the presidential seal that hung in the Oval Office during JFK's presidency. Another is a lovely invitation to Abraham Lincoln's second inaugural ball, a month before the 16th president was assassinated.

Individually, the items (including delegate buttons and convention pins) might just be curiosities. Taken together, they create a conversation about the evolution and meaning of the American presidency.

"They are rich with history and speak about the presidency and the personalities who have been presidents," said Dennis Jon, one of the exhibit's curators. "This is the closest we get, in this country, to a sense of royalty."

We are not talking about crown jewels here. We are talking more than mere baubles. We are talking the meaning of a nation at a time of decision making, and when the bars will be open way late.

We are lucky the institute is choosing education over intoxication. It's so crazy it just might work.

The reason for longer bar hours is so the media jackals won't think we are duller than Des Moines. With booze and buxom lasses running free, we will look more like Sodom and Las Vegas. Even the blue-nosed Nambies in the Legislature, who can't agree how to tell the young'uns about S-E-X, approved the licentiousness. But only during the convention.

We go back to being North Des Moines on Sept. 5.

Here's hoping the American experiment on view at the institute will keep running -- long after the one in our booze halls hears last call.