Bubba breaks it down

Bubba McCoy says Barack Obama's economic recovery had nothing to do with bringing him out of retirement to reopen Bubba's Auto Emporium east of here, where he still totes some notes.

John Brummett is blogging daily online.

"This country's printing money and keeping interest rates artificially low. Americans won't stand for being poor any more, just like we won't stand for being sick. Give us a drug or a shot or scope it or replace it."

That's what Bubba told me by way of economic, cultural and medical analysis when I called over to the Emporium's office--not much more than a camper, really. I was obliging wide reader urging for an overdue installment of Bubba's rascally wisdom.

Some people of a certain sophistication are called urbane. I call Bubba "rurale."


He said our dependence on a "pretend economy" would blow up in America's face eventually.

"But I'm 67 and fat and I'm probably going to be gone when it happens. So I may as well sell some late-model pickups, SUVs and fake muscle cars while I can. That way I can buy the grandkids plenty of presents. Lord knows they're gonna have it tough later on."

From climate change, you mean?

"Oh, heck, no. Bankruptcy."

By the way, a fake muscle car, he explained, is a Dodge Charger made to look like its gas-guzzling, big-engined ancestor of the '70s.

But beneath the hood, he said, "it's a wimp like practically everything else on the road any more."

I complimented Bubba on the metaphor--the fake muscle car as the American economy.

"I didn't go to do it," he said. "I guess that's just my genius."

What does Bubba drive?

"Whichever one I feel like takin' home to see Momma at 5 o'clock," he said.

And how is the long-suffering Mrs. McCoy?

"Well enough to fix me food with no salt," he said. "You ever eat a pot of plain pintos? If you haven't, be grateful."

Still battling those blood pressure and cholesterol issues?

"I've got all kinds of issues, not the least of which is I want a hamburger and some biscuits and gravy. Hell, I'd settle for some salt on a bowl of beans and cornbread.

"I tell the little lady that no one lives forever and that some pretty good life insurance is paid up with her name on the beneficiary line. But, bless her heart, she seems to prefer having me around. She's a good woman.

"Only thing wrong with her is her taste in a husband."

Of this seminal year in Arkansas politics, Bubba said, "I ain't got but one question: Which is it--97 percent, 95 percent or 90 percent?"

I knew instantly to what he referred. It was the rate at which Mark Pryor has voted with Obama, according to incessant Republican attack ads on television.

I told him I didn't know, but that, whatever the percentage, it wasn't high enough.

He asked: "Does being a wuss come natural to you or do you have to work at it?"

Yes, I said.

He said he was sick already of Pryor and Tom Cotton but probably would vote for Pryor. He's a "good boy" and Cotton seems "a little odd" and overly ambitious.

"I remember we used to beat up Bill Clinton for wanting too much too soon," Bubba recalled correctly.

"And this kid [Cotton] ... well, he might be a good boy, too, if you got to know him, which is hard to do when he's standing over against the wall. I tell you what might do him some good ... if I put him out here on the lot dependent on a commission and selling pickups to Delta boys. He might be ready for the Senate after that."

But Pryor? He's qualified only by reason of his daddy, isn't he?

"Maybe. But David's a good man. Mark is polite. He talks to you like he's as aware as you that he's not any smarter than you. Dumb ain't the problem in this world. The problem is unaware dumbness, like some of them col-yum-nists."

Governor?

"I don't know yet, but I'm starting to wonder if we haven't kicked Asa [Hutchinson] around enough. He was over here a few weeks ago and I couldn't quite remember what I didn't like about him. I don't think he could sell any cars either.

"But he's been out there on the lot for 30 years trying. That ought to be worth something."

Bubba was on fire with the metaphor.

As for the congressional race in his district, Bubba was unaware of it. Pressed, he couldn't name his congressman.

I told him it was Rick Crawford.

"No, that's not it. Who is it, really?"

I finally convinced him the congressman in question indeed was Rick Crawford. I said surely Bubba would vote against this two-term Republican who had been so inconsequential that Bubba was wholly unaware of him.

"No, sir. Quite the contrary. Keeping me unaware is exactly what I want out of a politician."

Finally, then: What of Hillary as president?

I can't quote what he said. It was, again, metaphorical--and anatomical.

Suffice to say he believes Hillary has certain assets; that she has what it takes; that she has, well, nerve.

"If you didn't buy a pickup from her, she'd probably run over you with it. Hell on wheels, I guess you could say.

"That may be what America needs."

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John Brummett's column appears regularly in the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette. Email him at [email protected]. Read his blog at brummett.arkansasonline.com, or his @johnbrummett Twitter feed.

Editorial on 07/20/2014

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