If you were ever in Scouting for either gender, you probably had at least one volume of fiction given to you as a birthday or holiday gift. It probably told the story of the resourceful, earnest young man or woman, somewhere in those early, formative teen years, who was a dedicated Scout, embodying the principles of clean living and underscoring the importance of "Being Prepared."

Somewhere in the early chapters, young Sarah or Bobby found themselves caught in a difficult situation or two. Sometimes it was confronting fear to accomplish more than he or she could ever dream, or facing down a bully or other person who doesn't live up to the Boy or Girl Scout's creed. The earnest Scout in our story kept his or her uniform impeccably clean, did not lie or smoke or abuse their bodies in unseemly ways. They ate their vegetables. And when the time came, the adults looked to Sarah or Bobby to help them do the right thing, remain straight on the moral pathways of life and live up to the creed and treat their fellow men and women with dignity and respect. Oh, and their pets, too.

Now, in the really good stories, there was always one Scout who wasn't quite so good, so prepared, so morally straight or who otherwise goofed up or chickened out when the big "Scouting Moment of Moral Clarity and Bravery" came around.

Last night that role was played by Bobby Jindal, Boy Scout of Louisiana. Young Bobby was invited to give the big speech at the Scout Jamboree and Barbecue Fest. Although he had impressed his Scoutmasters previously, being a stand-up guy back home in Louisiana, this time was different.

Up against Barry "That One!" from Hawaii, (who had long since determined Scouting was too soft for him, and instead hit the mean streets of Chicago to develop his grit and determination by becoming a community organizer of all things), Bobby was woefully inept and unprepared.

Bobby's uniform didn't fit and lacked the crisp creases and freshly shined shoes it should have had. It looked as if it had been borrowed from the Wasilla Scouting Resale Shoppe. It was too big and sagged in all the wrong places. It was noticeably many, many years old and out of date. And although someone had tried to hide it, you could still see the faint outlines of where "Goldwater" had once been embroidered on the pocket. His kerchief was stained and not tied properly. His Bermuda shorts were more like calf length clamdiggers. Knee socks that drooped over brogues that were two sizes too big, scuffed and run-over. His merit badges were all for skills he had never tried.

And on the night of big speech, not a single word Bobby spoke sounded as if it had been written by him. Like a can of baked beans opened and served at room temperature, Bobby's speech was barely palatable, the kind of food you eat because you're really hungry, but you'd never eat it again if given a choice.

He was coached to be "soaring" and "orate, Bobby, orate!" He was told to add snappy dance moves and hip-hop phraseology. He was told to be "personal" and tell homespun anecdotes. And if the stagecraft and delivery of the speech were not bad enough, the actually words and content were worse. Bobby should have just come down against electric lights, horseless carriages, round-world theories, and pencils.

"Get the plague? You better learn how to bleed yourself with free leeches 'cause no help is coming from us!" "A slate tablet and chalk for every child? Nah, get them back to the workhouse!" "A lump of coal for your poor mother? No coal, no tea and no potatoes, either!"

Bobby tried. He should not have imitated Peter Brady, voice cracking at all the wrong moments. His Doogie Howser, Boy Genius act didn't work either. Neither did the Dobie Gillis routine with the optional Maynard G. Krebs screech, "Work! Work!". He reached in his pocket and whipped out an obscure "Our Miss Brooks" reference to be met with blank stares. Andy Hardy was confused with Andy Rooney, neither funny nor appropriate. "Ya ever wonder why Wonder Bread is called Wonder Bread?"

If the Republicans expected young Bobby Jindal to rise to the occasion and lead them out the morass they find themselves in, they were sadly mistaken. If they think that secret to the success of the Democrats recently is that they have a "brown" guy leading them -- hey, they've got a brown guy, we'll get two!!! Brilliant!!! -- they are wrong.

Bobby Jindal proved that he is barely capable of running Louisiana (and Louisiana voters may find themselves choosing someone else next election), and nowhere near ready to lead his party nor the country. How unfortunate for him that his unreadiness was played out before millions.

With Jindal flaming out, and Steele smoldering already, they can still turn to Ken Blackwell, or if all else fails, Alan Keyes is always at the ready. "Be Prepared," is his personal motto.