PHILADELPHIA, Penn.—Hillary Clinton has an eye for detail. Hundreds of homemade signs hovered above the heads of the 4,000 raucous supporters packed into McGonigle basketball arena last night at Temple University here in North Philadelphia. There was "YES WE WILL," Clinton's recent revision of the famous Obama catchphrase "YES WE CAN." There was the Spanish rendition of her rival's slogan, too: "Si, se puede." (The "Yes, We Will" pledge does not apply to translation, apparently.)  And, last but not least, there was "From Pennsylvania to Pennsylvania Avenue," a fitting assessment of a state that "should," in the words of the senator, "make all the difference in deciding the next president of the United States." But Clinton didn't mention any of them in her brief, fevered stump speech. Instead, she singled out another, more conveniently worded placard.

"I saw a sign up there: 'Help Wanted. Experience Required, Day One,'" Clinton said near the start of her remarks. "And I think that says it all. I want you to think about this campaign as a loooong job interview. Because each of us is going to come and talk about what we've done and what we want to do, and you have to decide: who would you hire for the toughest job in the world?"

Something tells me she would've made the point without the poster. As the opening gun sounded yesterday on the uninterrupted six-week Pennsylvania marathon, Clinton's strategy was clear: appeal to the state's whiter, older, more blue-collar and more conservative Democratic electorate by reminding them, both explicitly and implicitly, that she--unlike, presumably, her opponent and his "boutique, latte-sipping" supporters--is "one of them." She didn't swipe at Obama, as she did earlier in Harrisburg; I suspect she'll save the direct attacks for smaller media markets. But the contrast was still obvious. You've had to pay your dues, Clinton seemed to tell the crowd at Temple. Why shouldn't the President?

In the quest to portray herself as the Keystone State's more comfortable choice, Clinton has several weapons at her disposal--and she deployed all of them last night. First, and perhaps most beneficial: her biography. Though she grew up in Chicago and lived her adult life in Arkansas and Washington, the former First Lady opened the evening's festivities by boasting of her roots in Scranton. "My father was born there, my grandfather came there when he was a three-year old," she said. "He went to work in the lace mills when he was 11 years old. Worked until he retired when he was 65." Lest the audience assume her Pennsylvania connection was merely ancestral, Clinton went on to describe summers and Christmases spent on nearby Lake Winola, in "the little cottage my grandfather built himself." (Take that, latte-sippers.) In fact, according to Clinton, the Rodhams behaved much like presidential candidates themselves, "travel[ing] across Pennsylvania" and "taking every detour you can imagine." (No word on whether little Hillary held any rallies.) "We came to Philadelphia all the time," she said. "So I feel a sense of connection whenever I'm here." Like any competent politician, Clinton has "felt a sense of connection" to other states as well--she went to college in Massachusetts, attended law school in Connecticut, worked on the McGovern campaign in Texas and in Iowa... um, well, Iowa was Midwestern, like Illinois. And there's no guarantee that the "granddaughter of a millworker" will meet with more success than John Edwards, who may have mentioned that he was son of a millworker once or twice. But at the very least, Obama can't brag about idling on the banks of Lake Winola--or watching his brother play football under Joe Paterno at Penn State, as Clinton did last night--so it's a definite advantage, however slight.

Also helping to cast Clinton in a familiar, favorable light: the 1990s. After Philadelphia former mayor (and current Pennsylvania governor) Ed Rendell heaped praise on the Clinton Administration for policies that he said helped the city--including federal empowerment zones, housing-authority assistance, poverty programs and extra police--Clinton eagerly picked up the theme. "When people say, 'We don't want to go back to 1990s,' I think to myself, which part don't they like?" she said. "The peace? Or the prosperity?" The reporters in the press file rolled their eyes--they'd heard it all before. But Philadelphians, of course, haven't--and after years of watching murder rates skyrocket under a corrupt mayor, it's probably smart politics to promise them a return to security and competence.

Clinton's underlying argument, of course, is that, with her, voters know exactly what they are getting--unlike the "riskier" Obama. Which accounts for last night's heavy--some might say leaden--focus on "specifics."  "I'd like to tell you what I would do if you gave me your vote and your confidence," she said, launching into a half-hour of gas prices ($100 a barrel), student loan rates (up to 29 percent), tax-credit pledges and health-care remedies. While Obama's speeches build to stirring (if airy) perorations, Clinton chose to cap hers with a clunky laundry list of promises."Who would you hire to bring our sons and daughters home and take care of our veterans and give them the health care and service and the compensation and respect they deserve! " she shouted, adding so many clauses to each sentence that the crowd was uncertain when to cheer. "Who would you hire to stand up against the home foreclosure crisis, put a moratorium on foreclosures and freeze interest rates for five years so people can stay in their homes! Who would you hire to go to bat for organized labor, to stand up for your right to organize and bargain collectively and have a chance to give more people a good middle-class lifestyle with a rising income! Who would you hire to get rid of No Child Left Behind and make college affordable and provide pre-kindergarten for our kids!" 

Not exactly Cicero there, senator. But in their stubborn refusal to inspire, Clinton's final lines last night perfectly captured the character of her candidacy going forward. Obama can keep his uplift, she seems to say. I'm betting that Pennsylvanians are in the market for something nittier, grittier and more "down-to-earth."

After all, she is, like, one of them.