Reflecting on a very McCain moment
Senator not afraid of humor, always sincere
The news that John McCain is battling brain cancer has sparked a sudden retrospective on his oneof-a-kind political career.
A lot of people have a lot of stories about the Arizona senator, Navy pilot, prisoner of war and two-time presidential candidate. This is mine. It dates back to 1999 and McCain’s first White House
bid.
It took place on his campaign bus, the Straight Talk Express.
It featured a future film star named Steve Carell.
And it revolved around a piece of old poetry.
Like a lot of political reporters, I made a beeline to New Hampshire that year to cover the McCain phenomenon. The senator’s underdog campaign had an irreverent, renegade style that charmed the public and captivated the media. It also had a feel of authenticity, bolstered by McCain’s years of suffering in a North Vietnamese POW camp and his willingness to field questions endlessly from the voters who packed his perpetual town halls.
Because so many reporters wanted a seat on the Straight Talk Express, the campaign staff rotated us between the candidate’s bus and an overflow media bus.
That situation became a running joke in a sketch for “The Daily Show,” then in its first year under Jon Stewart, who was steering the program in a newly political direction.
Also in his first year with the show, correspondent Steve Carell joined the bus one day in early December and produced a skit about the humiliation of being relegated to the overflow bus.
McCain was perfect fodder for this growing brand of political satire. Since his campaign was a sensation, he was genuinely funny and he liked to play along with the joke.
On the day “The Daily Show” interviewed McCain, I got the call-up from the pitiable backup bus to the Straight Talk Express, along with a few colleagues and a contingent of “kid reporters” from the Scholastic News. It was an entertaining ride. We watched McCain rendered speechless by this question from Carell:
“Senator, how do you reconcile the fact that you are one of the most vocal critics of pork barrel politics, and yet, while you were chairman of the Commerce Committee, that committee set a record for unauthorized appropriations?”
The senator sat there perplexed.
“I’m just kidding!” Carell said. “I don’t even know what that means.”
Most of the interview took the form of a “lightning round.” Carell: “Favorite book?” McCain: “For Whom the Bell Tolls.” Carell: “Favorite poet?” McCain: “Robert Service.” Carell: “Favorite movie?” McCain: “Viva Zapata.” Carell (incorrectly): “Charlton Heston.”
McCain (correctly): “Marlon Brando.” Carell: “Close enough.” Carell asked McCain who was the “funniest Republican.”
“Mitch McConnell. He makes me laugh all the time,” McCain said wryly, referring to the GOP senator from Kentucky (now majority leader) who fiercely opposed the campaign finance law championed by the Arizona Republican and his comrade across the aisle, Wisconsin Democrat Russ Feingold.
Carell wrapped up the interview with a mock “gotcha” question.
Could McCain recite any actual poetry by his “favorite poet,” Robert Service (the so-called “Bard of the Yukon,” famous for his popular tales of the turn-ofthe-century Klondike gold rush)?
To the surprise of those of us watching, McCain didn’t miss a beat.
“There are strange things done in the midnight sun, by the men who moil for gold,” said the senator, who went on to recite the first 12 lines of “The Cremation of Sam McGee.”
You couldn’t help but be impressed, especially since politicians’ answers about their “favorite” writers so often seem canned.
But what came next was a lot more arresting. McCain explained why he was able to recite that particular poem: Three decades earlier, the prisoner of war in the next cell had tapped it out on his wall in code.
That utterly unexpected exchange on a New Hampshire campaign bus was a very McCain moment.
It captured something about the senator — the sober edge under the surface of his humor and mischief.
It was a reminder of his remarkable life story.
And it reflected the tantalizing, unscripted quality of McCain’s failed 2000 presidential campaign, which caught lightning in a bottle when the senator upset Texas Gov. George W. Bush in the New Hampshire primary.
The moment was so unscripted, in fact — and so poignant — that it never made it into “The Daily Show” segment that aired later that month on “Comedy Central.”