Looking right in at a writein campaign for governor

A number of you agreed with my description of the recent Republican gubernatorial runoff between billionaire businessman Rick Jackson and Lt. Gov. Burt Jones as a mudslinging pig fight and told me you were turned off by them both. On top of that, you were underwhelmed at the Democrat’s choice of former Atlanta Mayor Keisha Lance Bottoms, who bailed out on a city she couldn’t manage after one term. So, what to do?

One reader has come up with his idea of a solution. He has proposed me as a write-in candidate. Moi? A candidate for governor?

Were The Beloved Woman Who Shared My Name not occupying a prominent seat in God’s kingdom and still around to tell me what I could and could not do, we would not be having this conversation. She wasn’t keen on politics or those that practiced that black art with the exception of our late U.S. senator Johnny Isakson. She loved Johnny Isakson.

If I had confessed to her that I had picked up a painted lady in a smoky bar and gambled away our life savings, she would weep softly and sigh deeply. If I told her I was running for public office, she would pick up an iron skillet and crack my skull.

I am concerned about my opponents poking around in my past life, seeking to damage my sterling reputation. I will confess I have not been perfect. I have never picked up a shady lady in a smoky bar and gambled away our life savings, but I did sneak (or maybe the word is, broke) into the book repository in high school and “borrowed” an extra set of textbooks to keep at home so I wouldn’t have to lug books back and forth. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Unfortunately, our principal didn’t think so when he found out.

I guess the first thing I would have to do is come up with some reasons for you to vote for me beside the fact that I am the spitting image of a young-looking Brad Pitt before he became an old-looking Brad Pitt. And like Brad Pitt, but unlike Rick Jackson, my smile doesn’t look like a sneer.

Like Jackson and Bottoms and every candidate running for every office everywhere, I promise I will: (inhale) Lower our taxes. Reduce crime. Shrink the size of government. Create jobs. Stand up to powerful special interests groups. Fight bureaucracy. Secure our borders. Take care of our veterans. Improve education and fix Medicare. (exhale) I would get rid of Muslim invaders, too, except Republican lieutenant governor candidate Greg Dolezal has beaten me to it. He seems to have made this a top priority, if elected. After they execute their solemn duties of appointing senators to committees and then sitting around listening to them babble for 40 days, lieutenant governors have a lot of free time on their hands to do stuff like this. If any Muslim invaders are reading this, don’t say I didn’t warn you. You don’t mess with lieutenant governors.

One of my first acts as governor would be to erect a statue of Ray Charles Robinson, of Albany, Georgia, on the lawn of the capitol and require all members of the General Assembly to sing “Georgia on my Mind” every day before undertaking the people’s business. They might get along a lot better if they did.

I would create legislation for boys who want to play girl sports to be able to do just that. Only they would have to play other boys who want to play girl sports. Seems fair to me, and if they don’t like it, the boys who want to play girl sports could always play boy sports.

Of course, the major plank in my campaign would be to stop drilling our Okefenokee National Wildlife Refuge for toothpaste whitener so you can wear the enamel off your teeth. My budget would include providing every family in Georgia their own box of baking soda which is better for your teeth, anyway. Albert the Alligator tells me that he and his friends in the Okefenokee will gladly eat any legislator who disagrees with this plan.

So, there it is. If you should consider me a write-in candidate, you know where I stand on the issues. Just know that I haven’t made up my mind. The Beloved Woman Who Shared My Name could always zap me with lightning. Or do they have iron skillets in heaven?

You can reach Dick Yarbrough at dick@dickyarbrough.com or at P.O. Box 725373, Atlanta, Georgia 31139.