Maverick Is His Name

My name is John McCain. I am the senior United States Senator from the state of Arizona and a former prisoner of war in Vietnam, but most recently I was nominated by the Republican Party for the presidency of the United States. I was defeated by Barack Obama, who will become the 44th Chief Executive and the first black man to hold that post.

I've been defeated before. I ran for President in 2000 and was leading George W. Bush until the South Carolina primary. I would have beaten him then except for some hardball tactics he used that turned the tables on me, and he went on to two terms in the White House instead of me. I've never forgiven that SOB and I swore I'd get even.

I pressured W. on campaign finance reform and he caved. Russ Feingold is a left-wing radical and a rabid partisan but he shares my view that the Republicans have enjoyed a financial advantage for too long and it's time to rein them in. He also shares my view that there's too much free speech by third parties in political campaigns. (Look what happened to my friend and colleague, John Kerry, in 2004. It proves my point.) It doesn't matter to me if a third party is telling the truth, it matters that it disrupts my vision of political discourse and it has to stop. Some people have complained that it's unconstitutional but that's just tough.

I also hijacked the process for approving the President's judicial nominees - that was great. I rallied thirteen other like-minded Senators to my cause: not a one was conservative. You see, I interpret conservatives fighting for their principles as partisans, while liberals fighting for their principles are gallant patriots. Dubya might have been the President but if he wanted anything done on the Hill, he had to go through me, and that was sweet.

...but we have common cause occasionally, as with the immigration reform bill we worked on in 2007. This bill would've allowed 21 million illegals to stay here mostly undisturbed but Rush Limbaugh and the other conservative die-hards stirred up the rednecks against it and we just couldn't get it done, and that really fried my bacon because I know what's best for this country and people keep getting in my way.

In many ways, I identify more with my liberal colleagues than I do my own party, and John Kerry even asked me to join his ticket in 2004, but I turned him down. You see, I'm a maverick. Mavericks get their credibility by rebelling against the norm and if I switched parties, I'd be just another Democrat. I'd be fighting Chuck Schumer and Harry Reid for airtime on the Sunday talk shows so I could bash the Republicans and I'm not about that. Wolf Blitzer and Larry King love it when a Republican criticizes his own party and that strokes my ego, so why would I give that up? Heck, Chuck Hagel figured that out a few years ago and it's a little flattering to see somebody try to emulate me, but not too much: If it's one thing a maverick doesn't like, it's another maverick.

Sarah Palin...well, that was just something I had to do. All I wanted was a respectful debate on issues I owned with a minimum of cash and outside influence so my natural superiority would stand out, but Barack Obama went and broke his promise to accept Federal money - that bastard! - and he was beating me everywhere I looked, so I had to do something. The moderates and the independents weren't flocking to me the way they should have and the only option I had left was to energize the Republican base, which was awkward given that I'd repudiated them for the past eight years, but part of being a maverick is switching from idealistic liberal lover to pragmatic politician and back again without upsetting my self-image of the angry old man who wants the Presidency as validation. So I went for it and boy, did I look like a genius! The rubes went crazy for her at the convention and on the campaign trail, and money and enthusiasm were running all over the place. Of course, my Democrat pals and the liberal media smeared her and I kind of took my time in defending her because she was stealing my publicity, and I sure didn't want the conservatives to hijack my campaign, but overall, she worked out: Choosing her proved that I was still capable of throwing the deep pass on fourth-and-long. The old guy's still got it, doesn't he?

In the end, I lost by a touchdown if I can use another football metaphor. Obama just had too much money, too many volunteers, he looked and sounded great on TV, my liberal friends in the press had a love fest over him while they threw me under the bus, the economy chose this exact moment to tank and voila! Eight years down the tubes. If I were an introspective guy - I'm not but let's say that I was - I'd say that my strategy was wrong. Undermining Dubya should have impressed people with how independent I am but it may have appeared as selfish and bitter. Refusing to criticize Obama's relationships with William Ayers, Tony Reszko and Reverend Jeremiah Wright (except at the very end when it wouldn't make a difference) should have demonstrated my loftiness but the base - like Joe the Plumber, for God's sake - saw it as a missed opportunity, even stupid. Sucking up to the liberals for eight years should have guaranteed their loyalty but they turned on me as soon as I finished off Huckabee, and criticizing conservatives for being too partisan while palling around with Joe Biden may have looked hypocritical. But like I said, I'm not an introspective guy.

Sure, I'll go to the Inaugural...why wouldn't I? And I'll go back to the Senate so I can help President Obama get his agenda through because I know his heart is in the right place. Like I've said for years, you have to be willing to set ideology aside and reach across the aisle to get things done in Washington. It's just funny that the Democrats never seem to do any reaching themselves.