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 both candidates turned you off.
On top of that, many of you were underwhelmed by the Democrats' choice of former Atlanta Mayor Keisha Lance Bottoms, who left a city she struggled to manage after one term.
So, what to do?
One reader came up with his own solution: Me as a write-in candidate for governor.
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 wouldn't even be having this conversation. She wasn't fond of politics or the people who practiced that black art, with the lone exception of our late U.S. Sen. Johnny Isakson. She adored Johnny Isakson.
Had I confessed that I'd picked up a painted lady in a smoky bar and gambled away our life savings, she would have wept softly and sighed deeply. Had I announced I was running for public office, she'd have picked up an iron skillet and cracked my skull.
I am a bit concerned about my opponents digging through my past in search of dirt to tarnish my otherwise sterling reputation. I'll admit I haven't been perfect. I've never picked up a shady lady in a smoky bar or gambled away our savings,. Still, I did sneak—or perhaps "break" is the better word—into the textbook repository in high school textbook repository and "borrow" an extra set of books to keep at home so I wouldn't have to lug them back and forth every day.
It seemed like a good idea at the time.
Unfortunately, our principal disagreed when he found out.
The first order of business would be convincing you to vote for me for reasons beyond the fact that I'm the spitting image of a young-looking Brad Pitt before he became an old-looking Brad Pitt. And unlike Rick Jackson, my smile doesn't resemble a sneer.
Like Jackson, Bottoms, and every other candidate running for every office everywhere, I promise to (deep breath): lower taxes, reduce crime, shrink the size of government, create jobs, stand up to powerful special-interest groups, fight bureaucracy, secure our borders, take care of our veterans, improve education, and fix Medicare. (Exhale.)
I'd also get rid of Muslim invaders, except Republican lieutenant governor candidate Greg Dolezal appears to have beaten me to that campaign promise. Judging from his campaign, it seems to be one of his highest priorities. After all, once lieutenant governors finish appointing senators to committees and listening to them babble for 40 days, they apparently have plenty of free time for pursuits like that.
If any Muslim invaders happen to be 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 on the Capitol grounds and require every member of the General Assembly to sing "Georgia on My Mind" before conducting the people's business each day. They might get along a lot better if they did.
I would also introduce legislation allowing boys who want to play girls' sports to do exactly that—provided they compete only against other boys who want to play girls' sports. Seems fair enough to me. And if they don't like it, they could always play boys' sports.
Of course, the centerpiece of my campaign would be ending efforts to mine near the Okefenokee National Wildlife Refuge for toothpaste whitener so people can polish the enamel off their teeth. My budget would instead provide every Georgia family with a box of baking soda, which is better for your teeth anyway.
Albert the Alligator tells me he and his friends in the Okefenokee would gladly eat any legislator who opposes that plan.
So there you have it. If you're considering writing me in for governor, now you know where I stand on the issues.
Just remember, I still haven't made up my mind. The Beloved Woman Who Shared My Name might yet zap me with a bolt of 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, GA 31139.