A LETTER FROM MUDFLAP JENKINS

(Ed. note: Earnest "Mudflap" Jenkins is an old acquaintance from my boyhood days in East Tennessee back in the '40s. I introduced him several years ago in columns written for the print media. He got his nickname from a grade-school teacher who commented on his slovenly appearance as "looking like a mudflap on a logging truck."

Mudflap has prospered over the years as a mechanic. Although he never finished high school, Mudflap has a perception of humankind, and more common sense, than most of the Ivy leaguers now running things in Washington.

He called recently expressing his frustration with the country's direction. "I don't write good like you do, but I would like to ask the President's mama to take him home til he gits straightened out. Would you write it for me?"

So here is Mudflap's letter to Barbara Bush, just as he dictated it.)

Dear Miz Bush,

I am writing this today to ask a favor from you. Please take your boy, George, home to Texas for awhile and try to git him straightened out. He has got this country in a mess, and it's just gettin' deeper.

I don't like to talk bad about anybody's younguns. I know I don't like for folks to talk bad about mine, even my oldest boy, Leroy, who is about as messed up as your boy. But Leroy has got an excuse. He went to Viet Nam. Your boy didn't. And Leroy ain't hurtin' nobody but hisself.

I guess you thought little George was on the right road, once he married that nice lady and stopped drinkin'. But you have to watch out for reformed drunks. They's one down the road from my place who thanks he's a mechanic since he found the lord. Findin' the lord is fine, but it don't make you a mechanic. I cain't tell you how many cars I have had to fix that he messed up.

Don't git me wrong, Miz Bush, they's nothin' wrong with gettin' saved. I got saved a few years back, and my wife and me is real happy. But I was already a good, honest mechanic, and that part didn't change much.

I'm sure your boy is a good man, but I don't thank he was cut out for bein' President. He has admitted it is hard work. Did he thank it was gonna be easy? Even mechanicin is hard work, and bein' President is probably even harder.

I voted for your boy the first time, and he seemed to be OK, even after them Arabs blew up New York. But then somethin' happened. He couldn't settle on one war, so after he invaded Afghanistan, he decided to invade Iraq.

Even an old, ignorant country boy from East Tennessee said that was a mistake. I was in Korea, and Leroy went to Viet Nam. He ain't been the same since, and I said that Iraq was Viet Nam all over again.

You cain't change people who have been smellin' camel gas and camel (expletive deleted) for 2,000 years. It affects their brains. I never stay in the barn around my cows for more than thirty minutes without leavin'. It gits to you.

You cain't make them Arabs understand democracy.

Now we're knee-deep in Iraq, losin' our ass (excuse it, ma'am, but we are), and your son is talkin' about goin' into Iran. Even a kid knows you don't pick another fight on the school ground when you're already gettin' whupped in the first one.

Another thang. What are we gonna do with all them Mexicans? I can't go to Wal-Mart without havin" to stand in line for twenty minutes, and they all speakin' Spanish or some other tongue I cain't understand. All them Mexicans has two or three younguns hangin' on, and they say the younguns is Americans even if their mamas and daddys ain't.

What's your boy gonna do about that? Ever time you turn around, he's kissin' up to that Mexican President.

I'm not even gonna start on gas prices. All my customers keep askin, "What can I do to git more mileage?"

"Keep 'er tuned up, put more air in your tars, and don't gun it when you take off," is all I can tell them.

So, Miz Bush, I thank even you will admit the country is in a mess. I know it is askin' a lot, but if you could talk your boy into quittin', comin' home to Texas, and restin' up for awhile, it would do us all a big favor. I know he is tarred.

I doubt that fella, Cheney, is any better. He talks out of one side of his mouth, and cain't shoot straight, but we can maybe take care of him later if it don't improve.

One thang at a time.

Your friend and patriotic American,

Earnest Jenkins