Dear Mr. President

After a great day of chasing salmon, I went to the Hot August Nights celebration the other night and what a blast! There were five cars, three motorcycles, and a handful of pretty good bands. If you didn't go, your loss. If you left that hot rod sitting in the garage, again, your loss.
So any ways it was after the show that a series of events led me to write this letter.
Dear President Obama,
I was arrested last night while on the way home from a car show. I assure you that I really did nothing wrong, in fact my initial actions were induced by my attempt to save the life of a harmless creature from our wonderful island.
I was leaving the bonfire at the show when a medium size Kodiak Brown Bear crossed the road in front of my hot rod. While swerving to avoid it, I might have crossed the double yellow line because the night air was split by the careening siren of a police car. The darkness was intermittently illuminated in red's and blues as the car's strobes flashed to life.
Assuming that the officer had somewhere important to be, I pulled off to the side immediately. Imagine my surprise when so did the police car!
I got out of my rig to see what was wrong, only to be told, via loudspeaker, to get back in the vehicle and place my hands on the steering wheel. Being a law abiding citizen, I promptly turned about and headed back. Unfortunately I tripped on a rock,( our island is full of them), and slammed into the side of my car.
I got back in the car and waited as instructed.
When the officer walked up I could not help notice that she was kinda pretty for a gal wearing a gun, but I tried to focus on the problem at hand.
She asked where I was coming from and going to. I told her about the cool cars and that I was Flats bound.
Looking at my license,, she finally asked the inevitable question. " Are you Irish then Griff?". I politely asked why that mattered. The question that followed, summed it all up, and I realized how much trouble I was in. "You been drinking tonight have you?", she queried. I admitted to a glass of wine at dinner, and added that I felt like I was being profiled due to my ethnic background.
She whipped open my door and asked me to get out of the car. My waders (I was still wearing them from earlier, I mean you know how comfy they get once they're broke in), caught on the edge and I stumbled out of my rig.
Fortunately the officer broke my fall, I don't know if she meant to, but she did. Unfortunately in an effort to stabilize my gravitational decline, I reached out in reflex and grabbed the closest thing to hand. Yup, I grabbed the officer, somewhere in the vicinity of her badge and name tag.
Oddly, rather than helping me stabilize myself. she accelerated my descent to the gravel and followed it up with a healthy dose of bear spray.
As she put the cuffs on me. I swear, Mr. President, I heard her say " another drunken Irishman".
So that's the story,and it's true. I mean you couldn't make this stuff up right?
Later I explained this to the Judge, and through the tears in his eyes,( I really appreciate his empathy BTW), he dismissed all charges. Thank goodness.
So that said, here's the problem.
I feel that after being profiled, harassed, and yet exonerated for simply trying to get home, a bridge has been burned that only you can rebuild. After hearing what you did for that poor Harvard professor, I believe only your intervention will help mend the rift this has created on our island and in turn save our community from the evils of ethnic profiling.
So how about it then? You, me, and the arresting officer have lunch at the White House,at the taxpayers expense , unless of course, you want to pay for the airfare.
Save the Bud Light though. I'll bring some Palin Pale that you're gonna love.
You Betcha!
Peace Ya'll