Will the real John McCain please stand up? I never gave John McCain much thought. He was a senator from Arizona, and how many people do they have out there? Maybe one hundred thousand, if you don’t count the Mexicans? I mean, I’ve BEEN to Arizona. Brother Theo’s there right now. He was up all night swatting flies.
So, with all the hullabaloo over his passing, I spent yesterday trying to learn about this cat. Opinions were, shall we say, diversified. On one hand we have a senator crying his butt off, wondering if America can survive, and on the other there are some that believe America would have been a lot better off if McCain had checked out a bit sooner.
Of course President Trump ran the flag up and down the pole at the White House in a sort of stroking motion toward McCain’s memory which was. . . special. The governor of Arizona is now tasked to fill his seat. Will he choose a Trump supporter, or someone who is as whacked out as John McCain was?
McCain liked to refer to himself as a Maverick. The Indians have a name for that. It’s called ”Crazy Horse.” In the Senate there’s the right side of the isle, the left side of the isle, and then there’s those very special folks who hang out ON the isle. You can never tell what they gon’ do! McCain was one of these Islanders.
I waded through John’s Navy career. Right away I learned about how he lit up the Forrestal. Opinions are varied on HOW McCain started the fire, but there seems to be no doubt that he DID start it. One of my friends said that he accidentally pushed the wrong button on his jet while waiting to take off, and dropped a bomb on the ship, but I found more than one account claiming that in his desire to make his plane backfire he did what is called a “Wet Start” and flames shot out of his engine, firing up a missile on the plane behind him, which in turn set off a chain reaction that killed over one hundred and thirty sailors.
He wasn’t court-martialed, rotated back home, or even fussed at. His pappy and grand pappy were admirals in the Navy so John’s little indiscretion was overlooked. You never saw that one coming, did you? Anyway, he goes on flying around dropping bombs, mostly on the enemy, crashing two planes, until the Viet Cong saved America by blasting him out of the sky and checking him into the Hanoi Hilton.
Now, he did spend five years as a POW, and I’ll give him that. I’m not going to question anything he did while there. I wasn’t there. I don’t give two craps about this “Military Code Of Universal WhatEVER!” If they drove bamboo shoots under my fingernails I’ll tell the little yellow bastards anything they wanted to hear. Then kill their family later. Hey! I’m a Texan! Deal with it.
No, John did what he had to do to survive. What really got me was how he came home and dropped bombs on his wife who’d been disabled in a terrible car crash, leaving her with horrible health conditions. He subsequently dropped HER like a bomb, opting for a new, improved model that would look good to the voters. And I thought I was an S.O.B.! Thus, John McCain began his long and illustrious career of “service” to our country.
I have to check out his voting record and see what his main ideas were, but from the reactions I’ve read over the last two days he apparently made Republicans madder than he did Democrats so I believe it’s safe to say “Big Bad John” was probably a RINO. Republican In Name Only. Eventually he ran for the White House but a first term senator running his office out of a cardboard box sent him packing and at that point he began to build his “legacy.”
Legacy always comes in when a politician realizes that it’s all over now and it’s about to be Monday. You’ve all seen it. Some senator will drift along for a number of years, sidestepping the issues, never even coming to the state that elected them until it’s time to get elected AGAIN, and then with the winds of destiny a blowin’ through what’s left of their hair, and the Grim Reaper knocking at the door, they start talking about “legacy!” Save the environment! (That’s always a good one!) Save whales! Save the QUEERS! But by golly you gotta save SOMETHING! Mainly you gotta save FACE!
I’m not even gonna touch John McCain’s status as a hero. I have my reasons, not the least of being the fact that my son is a retired Master Chief, and I’m not up to a two hour butt chewing. Heroes are subjective. A matter of perception. In times of division we all look for guiding lights. Shucks, back in my day John Wayne was my hero, and he was just a Hollywood actor. That having been said, he DID fight in every battle from the Alamo to Iwo Jima. So I guess, in some minds John McCain is a hero.
When a victorious Roman general returned in glory there would be a big parade. Bread and circuses for all. Wine, girls in togas, you know the deal. As he was paraded through the streets of Rome, a slave stood behind him reminding him that all glory is fleeting. History and national sentiment change with the tide. Who knows. In fifty years a bunch of college kids, with condoms up their noses may pull down John McCain’s statue.
The Butcher Shop