Mr. Johnson County

Annabeth Surbaugh presides over her coronation as the queen of Johnson County. She beams out over a hundred of her most loyal subjects, who've gathered at the newest First Watch restaurant at 119th and Metcalf in Overland Park. Speaking into a CB-style microphone normally used by a hostess to call out the names of the hungry, Surbaugh thanks the people who helped her campaign for the just-created position of Johnson County Chair.

At Surbaugh's direction, her steering committee members raise their hands. Her campaign chairs come forward. Metcalf State Bank's Ben Craig, whom Surbaugh dubs "Mr. Johnson County," takes the mic and nods to the Almighty. "Thank the Lord for saving us from Charlotte!" he says of Surbaugh's opponent, Charlotte O'Hara, a political newcomer and construction-company owner who put hundreds of thousands of her own dollars into her campaign against Surbaugh.

As cheers fill the room, Craig walks to the booths near the cash register -- toward Steve Rose.

Surbaugh's eyes follow Craig past the mauve tables and Mylar balloons. "I have to give a special thanks to Steve Rose," Surbaugh tells the crowd. "Steve, I can't thank you enough for all your help."

Rose smiles and hesitantly claps for himself along with everyone else. While Surbaugh turns to give a thumbs up for the flashing cameras, Rose runs a finger across his sweaty forehead.

His relief is understandable.

For more than thirty years, Steve Rose has run the Sun newspapers, a collection of free neighborhood publications, first at his father's side, then as sole owner and recently as advisor to the company that bought him out in 1998. His face -- it appears atop the column he's written since college -- has fallen on every driveway in Johnson County twice a week. He's also had plenty of exposure representing Johnson County on Ruckus, KCPT Channel 19's public-television debate show.

This year, though, Rose has been a high-profile pusher of some big flops.

In July, Rose and other chambercrats on both sides of State Line had to admit that their plan for a second bistate sales tax -- this one an attempt to renew the money that voters had earmarked for Union Station in 1996 and spend it on stadiums and arts programs -- would hardly earn a majority in the Royals' bullpen, much less among voters in Johnson and Jackson counties.

In August, Channel 19 President Bill Reed canceled Ruckus, which had dared to put print and radio journalists on television. Along with Rose and host Mike Shanin, the regular "Ruckettes" were liberal radio host Trudie Hall, Kansas City Star editorial writer Yael Abouhalkah and conservative ideologue and K.C. Jones publisher Rich Nadler. On November 5, as Surbaugh was ascending her throne, Rose was conspicuously absent from a special live edition of Ruckusthat Reed had brought back the night of Election Day.

Just last month, the Johnson County Sunannounced that it would slice its frequency in half, publishing only once a week beginning November 21. "I have to find 52 things I'm not going to write about," Rose says.

After that string of insults, Rose saw the Surbaugh campaign as a referendum on himself, the man who is, regardless of what Surbaugh says, the real Mr. Johnson County.

Bit by bit, Steve Rose's hold on Johnson County has slipped.

"It's sort of been a creeping, dribbling realization," says Dave Raffel, who stayed plenty busy this election year as head of Kansas Families United for Public Education, a grassroots organization that spent the summer campaigning against conservative Republican candidates who threatened to cut school funding. He chuckles about an e-mail he recently received from Rose. Raffel reads Rose's message -- "Your failure to endorse a gubernatorial candidate is very lame" -- and plays up what he says is its superior tone.

"The Lord has bestowed his benevolence upon us," Raffel says of Rose. "I think maybe Steve Rose thinks of himself maybe a little more highly than maybe other people think of him."

In fact, Rose knows exactly how highly other people think of him. He's seen the polls.

During this summer's Bistate II debate, Public Opinion Strategies in Alexandria, Virginia, surveyed 422 people. Overall in the metro area, 36 percent had a favorable opinion of Rose; 11 percent had an unfavorable opinion. In Johnson County, 52 percent of the people liked him and 16 percent didn't. His numbers were a little worse in Olathe and Lenexa than in northeast Johnson County. Overland Park loved him.

Neil Newhouse, who coordinated the poll -- which was paid for by the Greater Kansas City Chamber of Commerce -- says he was doing Rose a favor by tacking on a question about him.

"The rule of thumb for political candidates ... is, you want to have a favorable/ unfavorable ratio of at least three to one," Newhouse says. "He's sitting right at that three-to-one ratio."

Political consultant Steve Glorioso knows of another poll commissioned by a candidate who wanted to know how important a Rose endorsement was. "He polls real well," Glorioso says. "He has high name-ID and high favorables."

Rose is still just a newspaper columnist, though, not a political candidate.

At least not yet. Rose tells the Pitch he has no intention of running for office. But over the years, as the county he represents has changed, Rose has evolved as well. And the county and Rose are very much in a state of flux.