A little caucus advice

(Warning: Satire)

Ring … Ring … Ring

Hello?

'Jeb, little bro! It's W. 43 calling …”

Oh, hey, George. Good to hear from you. What's up?

'Well, I've been readin' about your poll numbers out there in Iowa. And, how can I put this gently, you're lookin' like an overweight armadillo nappin'' in the fast lane. Comprende?”

Uh, sure, George. The numbers are discouraging. But it's just one poll.

'Yeah, but it's a poll by Quin … Quin … aww, you know that university in Connecticut that isn't Yale? Says only 5 percent of Iowa Republicans support you. Forty-five percent say you're not conservative enough. Thirty-nine percent have a favorable view of you, little bro, but 45 percent are unfavorable. You're underwater like a marlin.”

Swell. So glad you called to cheer me up. See you at Thanksgiving …

'No, no. Hang on. I'm just worried about your strategery, that's all. Some guy at the Washington Post says you ought to skip the Iowa caucuses because you can't win ‘em. A few others are saying the same. I just want to throw in my two pesos. Don't listen to ‘em Jeb. Iowa is awesome!”

Easy for you to say. You spent tons of time in the state, and charmed the socks off those folks. You soaked up all the money. Now everybody's got their own super PAC. I can't win over evangelical voters. Fox is reporting that some Democrats find me almost palatable. Kiss of death.

And don't even get me started on that distasteful straw poll …

'For starters, little bro, I didn't jet into Iowa to announce my candidacy until mid June 1999, so you're not any later than I was. I'd also point out your money pile already is so dang big you're gonna need a ski lift. Ain't no super PAC gonna beat the Bushes at raising bucks. Dough will be no problems.

'And maybe you forget how many people misunderestimated me, too. Sure, I jetted into Iowa with my Texas Rangers looking like the Secret Service. We got huge crowds. Trucked in sweet corn. Jimmy Nussle serenaded Laura and I with Meredith Willson's 'Iowa Stubborn.” No accompaniment. Total Acapulco. I looked like I was already president.

'But still they said I was all hat and no cattle. My support was like the Rio Grande, a mile wide and an inch deep. There was a cast of thousands already running by the time I got to Iowa. Libby Dole, the potato guy dad picked for veep, the plaid shirt guy from Tennessee, the rich magazine guy, some little feller named Bauer, a whole bunch of wannabes. I beat ‘em all.

'And hell, it was fun! We had a big ‘ol party bus. We went to the State Fair. I gave a speech on biotech next to a super cool big green combine. I got my hair cut in Indianola with like 80 guys shooting pictures and video. Did I mention all the pie and sweet corn?

'And the straw poll! Awesome. We bought a metric ton of votes, won the thing easy and then we cranked up the band! Everybody wanted to party with W that night.

'Man, you cannot skip Iowa!”

Thanks for the walk down memory lane. But your success is half of my problem. Nobody wants another Bush. Dynasties are un-American. Bush there, done that, they say. Clever.

And if I can't win in Iowa, why should I bust my butt to get fourth? Or fifth? Wouldn't I be better off skipping the caucuses and making a stand in New Hampshire and beyond? Or maybe run a token Iowa campaign, talk publicly about Iowa's importance and quietly tamp down expectations behind the scenes. Pull a modified Mitt.

Bottom line, I'd rather take the long view and raise bucks than worry about buttering up every cranky Corn State conservative from Sioux City to Nevada.

'Uh, that's pronounced Nevada, Jebby. Better stay out of Madrid, too.

'And what a bunch of loser talk, little bro. If I was paintin' your portrait, I'd need plenty of yellow. Just look at an Electoral College map. You gotta win Iowa to be president. I lost it by less than one vote per precinct in 2000. Lucky we had Florida, Florida, Florida and the Supreme Court. But you can't count on hangin' chads. You wanna be the decider, you gotta decide to run everywhere. Otherwise, what are you? Rudy Giuliani? Guess you guys can get a condo together in Boca Raton.

'And are you really scared of Gov. Cheese? The silver dime dude's kid? Ted (beeping) Cruz? You gotta be kidding me. Get in there and win that thing.”

OK, OK. You've convinced me. I'll give Iowa a try.

'Now you're talkin.' OK, first, you gotta get some nice boots. Remember to point, and wink. They love it. A knowing little smirk can come in handy, but not too much. Stay off the Tilt-a-Whirl if you just had a funnel cake. Never use corn holders. Just grab it by the cob and dig in. It's Hawkeyes not Buckeyes.

'You writtin' this down? Hello?”

' Comments: (319) 398-8452; todd.dorman@thegazette.com