http://phoenixnewtimes.com/content/printVersion/848709
Postmodern John McCain: the presidential candidate some Arizonans know - and
loathe
By Amy Silverman
published: August 07, 2008
I once stood in John McCain's kitchen and watched Cindy cook eggs for their
kids.
It was still dark outside when I arrived at the McCains' north-central
Phoenix house on a winter day in early 1994. I remember terra cotta tile and
overstuffed plaid couches and wondering whether Mrs. McCain regularly got up
before dawn to make breakfast.
I was following her husband around for the day, for a story I was working on
about his role in Arizona Republican politics. I'd been gathering examples
of McCain's strong-arming, and I needed some face-time with the senator, to
ask about that and also to describe his personality. That day, we drove to
Tucson so McCain could sit in as guest host on a local talk-radio show.
For three hours, with the same piece of gum in his mouth, McCain took calls
from listeners. There was no set topic. I got the anecdote I needed for my
story in the form of a call from "Rosemary," an obviously elderly woman who
wanted to express her concern about nuclear proliferation.
"You make some excellent points, Rosemary, and I wish that everybody were as
concerned about the issue as you are. And I appreciate the call," the
senator told her. Then he announced a station break, took off his
headphones, and leaned over to me (his BFF for the day) with a Grinch-like
grin on his face.
"I believe that Rosemary has a bumper sticker that says 'Visualize World
Peace,'" he said.
Vintage McCain.
A few months after that story was published, a good friend of mine who knows
the senator well pointed out an error in my anecdote about John McCain and
Rosemary.
In the story, I wrote:
Although his demeanor is even and cordial throughout the radio shift, his
hands betray the storm that lurks beneath the surface. His hands wring
constantly, as if every bit of nervous energy, every distraction, every
unspoken slam, is channeled through them.
"Uh, he doesn't wring his hands because he's mad," my friend said. "He does
it because he's in pain from the injuries he got as a prisoner of war. His
hands hurt constantly, so he rubs them together."
It was a good lesson for a young reporter. Never assume anything. For years,
I was embarrassed by the gaffe. But looking back, I've got to say that it's
pretty darn likely that handwringing was the product of McCain's desire to
control both pain and anger.
That's the thing about covering John McCain. Someone always wants you to
give him the benefit of the doubt. And there's usually a pretty good case
for why he deserves it, though that doesn't mean he should be let off the
hook completely.
Even now that McCain's the one whining that Obama's getting all the good
press in this presidential race, you still don't see a lot in the national
media really damning the guy. It could be that in this postmodern political
world, there's not much you can say anymore that will get the attention of
the American people. Ever since Monica Lewinsky crawled under that desk in
the Oval Office, it's been hard to shock this country.
Or it could be that, like me, no one really expected John McCain to make
another run at the White House. The man is old, and there's no way his war
injuries - far more extensive than cramped hands - don't age him further. I
didn't think he'd be in the Senate in 2008, let alone on practically every
television screen, front page, and magazine cover.
If nothing else, that cameo in Wedding Crashers should have signified the
end of McCain's presidential aspirations.
And yet, here we are.
I've been a writer and editor at New Times for 15 years. For much of that
time, I wrote about Arizona politics, which is to say that I wrote about
John McCain. It's still odd to see the guy in the spotlight, because for
quite a while, I was pretty much the only one covering him.
I never did fall for him in the way reporters fall for politicians, probably
because he wasn't much to fall for back in the early 1990s. In those days,
McCain was still rehabilitating the image he'd later sell to the national
media. He was known then for cavorting in the Bahamas with Charlie Keating,
rather than for fighting for campaign finance reform and limited government
spending.
No one seems to remember Keating much, anymore. Amazing. McCain and his
fellow Arizonan, Democrat Dennis DeConcini, were hauled before the Senate
Ethics Committee along with three other senators to explain their actions on
behalf of Keating's Lincoln Savings and Loan.
Keating gave the senators hefty campaign contributions, then called on them
to meet with bank regulators to pressure them to go soft on an investigation
of Lincoln. There were two infamous meetings. McCain attended both.
It's true that McCain was the first to back off when the appearance of
impropriety became obvious, and the ethics committee was easier on him than
most of the others, partly because some of McCain's actions on behalf of
Keating took place while he was in the House, and therefore not under the
purview of the Senate Ethics Committee.
More important, what often gets lost in the retelling is McCain's close
personal relationship with Keating. McCain took trips with Keating,
including to his retreat in the Bahamas, and reimbursed him only after the
fact was made public.
It was also revealed that Keating had a business relationship with Cindy and
her father, Jim Hensley, who ran a very lucrative Anheuser-Busch
distributorship in Phoenix.
Most shocking, perhaps, given McCain's image today, is that McCain took more
than $100,000 in campaign contributions from Keating and his employees,
between 1982 and 1988.
You may be surprised to know that in 1987 and 1988, McCain voted against
federal legislation reforming the campaign finance system. It was only in
1990, in the aftermath of Keating and the shadow of an upcoming re-election
campaign, that he started supporting reform. Ditto for his efforts to cut
government spending.
And I've got to pause to say something about both of those efforts. In a
word, they're a farce. McCain famously sponsored a law designed to control
special interests' grip on Washington, but at the same time, he took money
from those interests. Years ago, I analyzed McCain's contributions, compared
with the favors he dealt as chairman of the Senate Commerce Committee ("An
Endowed Chair," November 25, 1999).
On top of that, McCain's efforts haven't done much to reform the campaign
finance system; shady independent expenditures to outside groups supporting
candidates now rule the day, in a roundabout way. And millions are still
spent on elections.
Efforts to stop pork-barreling are sadly cosmetic, as well. First off, the
earmarks that groups like Taxpayers for Common Sense rail against account
for only 1 percent of the federal budget. One percent.
And it's not all bridges to nowhere. McCain, who used to fight for projects
like a regional airport for metropolitan Phoenix (like minds argued whether
building another airport was even necessary; they wondered whether the
airport idea was a ploy to antagonize certain Phoenix officials), now
refuses to fund anything for the state. And his sheep. er, colleagues -
Arizona congressmen John Shadegg and Jeff Flake - have followed suit. As a
result, Arizona ranked dead last in earmark funding in the past fiscal year.
Currently, East Valley Congressman Harry Mitchell, a freshman Democrat, is
pushing for funding to continue a program at a Scottsdale hospital that
trains doctors, nurses, and other military medical personnel in trauma care;
some have already used the training in Iraq and Afghanistan.
If that's pork, I'll take a BLT.
Arizona's political forefathers - Mo Udall, Barry Goldwater, Carl Hayden -
pushed through one of the biggest pork barrel projects in the history of the
United States Congress: the Central Arizona Project. If they hadn't, there
wouldn't be much of a state to represent.
As a native Arizonan, those are the politicians I grew up learning about.
McCain just doesn't compare.
Yeah, the guy has a sharp wit. He'd be fun to have beers with. But does that
mean he should have his finger on the button?
I have my own share of war stories from covering McCain, like the time I
stumbled across the news that Cindy was stealing prescription drugs from her
own charity. A few months later, John McCain berated a close family member
of mine, in one of his classic outbursts.
For months after I wrote about McCain's love affair with the national media,
his chief of staff mailed me a copy every time another glowing piece about
her boss came out in the press.
I learned the love lesson firsthand during the 2000 election, when - cajoled
into doing an interview about McCain for a piece by TV newsmagazine 20/20 -
I flew back and forth to Washington in a single day to be interviewed by Sam
Donaldson, only to learn later from his producers that, whoops, Donaldson
had decided he really liked McCain and didn't want to include anything
negative in his profile.
On my way back to the airport that day, exhausted, I checked my voicemail
from the back of a town car. Tucker Carlson, then a writer for now-defunct
Talk magazine, had called, looking for quotes for a story. I called him back
and left a message saying I couldn't help him. And since then, for the most
part, I've stayed away from other reporters doing stories about John McCain.
They still call, from as far away as London. One guy, describing himself as
a Phoenix freelancer (I'd never heard of him) wanted to know what it would
take to get me to give him all my files of public documents on Cindy McCain.
I tell them that the work my colleagues and I have done on McCain over the
years speaks for itself.
And it does. Yet, something seems to be getting lost in translation.
Much has been made of what McCain learned during his time in Vietnam and his
time in Washington. But there's also something to be said about what Arizona
has learned about John McCain from his time in - or, at least, his time
representing - this state.
Here's a story I've never seen told. In 1988, Arizona was already down and
out, politically - and John McCain couldn't resist delivering a low blow.
When I was in the Phoenix Public Library just last month, looking for the
old Congressional hearing testimony to confirm the story, I was surprised
when the librarian knew just what I was talking about. People here remember.
First, some background.
In the spring of 1988, things were a mess. Governor Evan Mecham had just
been impeached, and everyone was busy licking wounds.
There was no way of knowing then that Arizona's ugly days would turn into
years - that the state stood to endure a political scandal that would send
legislators to jail for taking bags of cash from undercover agents
pretending to be lobbyists (AzScam); that its U.S. senators would become
poster boys for corruption on the federal level (the Keating Five); or that
its governor would leave office in disgrace over his personal financial
dealings, narrowly avoiding a prison term (John McCain's pal J. Fife
Symington III).
But before all that, there was Ev Mecham. From a public relations
standpoint, Mecham probably did more damage to the state than anyone, which
is really saying something. Mecham's the conservative used-car dealer who -
against all odds and against the GOP candidate anointed by everyone in the
party, from John McCain on down - won the 1986 gubernatorial election.
Looking back, you can argue about just how bad a governor Mecham was. Mostly
he was an embarrassment. He's the one who used the term pickaninny and kept
the state from recognizing the birthday of Martin Luther King Jr. as a
national holiday, leaving Arizona's tourism industry for dead.
Even Doonesbury took note in a series of comic strips.
People were so set on getting Mecham out of office that they launched
simultaneous efforts. To be on the safe side, in case the state Senate
didn't impeach, the governor's detractors started a recall movement. The
campaign was ready to go when Mecham was ousted.
But when it was clear that the recall wasn't necessary, some insisted on
continuing it.
In Arizona, when a governor leaves office early, the secretary of state
ascends. In this case, that was Rose Mofford, an old-school Democrat from
the small mining town of Globe, a lady with a bright white beehive that
Arizona Republic cartoonist Steve Benson once famously drew as a cone-full
of Dairy Queen.
Mofford had served as secretary of state for decades. She'd never aspired to
the state's top spot. But she accepted graciously and agreed to serve out
the remaining 2 1/2 years of Mecham's term. She never showed interest in
running for another term after that, although she was enormously popular.
As the story goes, John McCain and his friends wanted her out immediately.
And, they figured, they had the mechanism in place to do it. Mecham was
gone, but the recall effort was still in place. Why not shift gears and
target Mofford instead?
The Democrats didn't like that one bit and asked the Arizona Supreme Court
to consider the legality.
In mid-April 1988, Mofford and some staff flew to Washington for, as one
former aide puts it, the "perfunctory wet kiss" meeting with the Arizona
congressional delegation. Even in mean old D.C., there's such a thing as
protocol, and the tour was expected to go along without incident.
At 10 in the morning on April 12, Mofford testified before the Senate Energy
and Water Development Subcommittee on Appropriations on the topic of the
Central Arizona Project.
Now, Mofford had been governor for only eight days. Before that, her main
task had been running the state's elections department. This appearance
(there was a similar one, later that day, before the House) had been billed
as ceremonial. She was not familiar with the particulars of federal water
law. Nor did her staff think she'd be expected to be - just then.
But, apparently, Senator James McClure, a Republican from Idaho, did. After
a lot of looking, that librarian and I (actually, it took three librarians)
tracked down the testimony from that day. McClure asked Mofford a series of
questions that would leave any water expert's mouth dry. Her staff jumped in
to try to answer, but even so, ultimately they had to file an addendum to
the testimony.
Word spread quickly about what had happened.
Coincidentally, that very same day, Pat Murphy, then publisher of the
Arizona Republic, was also in Washington to meet with the delegation. He and
his wife had lunch plans with McCain, and as Murphy recalls, they went to
the hearing room where Mofford was testifying, to meet up with him. Murphy
had written glowingly of McCain and considered him a personal friend.
As Murphy recounted in an e-mail recently (he left the Republic many years
ago, and now lives in Idaho), the incident crushed him. He says it was the
beginning of the end of his respect for and friendship with McCain.
"We peeked in the room," wrote Murphy. "McCain saw us, excused himself, and
we three went to the Senate dining room for lunch.
"During lunch, McCain said, almost with mischievous glee, that he had
slipped some highly technical questions to [James McClure] to ask Mofford -
questions she wouldn't be prepared to answer or expected to answer.
"Flabbergasted, I asked McCain why would he want to sabotage Mofford's
testimony, when in fact the CAP was the nonpartisan pet of Republicans and
Democrats - such as far-left Udall and far-right Goldwater - since its
inception.
"His reply, as near as I remember, was, 'I'll embarrass a Democrat any time
I get the chance.'
"The lunch continued in strained chit-chat. We then walked back to McCain's
office, where a few reporters, all of them from Arizona papers, as I recall,
were waiting. One said there was a rumor McCain had tried to sabotage
Mofford's testimony, to which he said something like, 'I'd never do anything
like that.'"
There was more. Another rumor, later reported in the Republic, held that
McCain had brought in a private film crew to tape the proceedings, so that
the tape could be used to embarrass Mofford in the recall election. At the
time, Jay Smith, McCain's campaign media consultant, was quoted in the
Republic as declining comment; he did not deny the rumor.
The next day, the Republic ran a story about Mofford's trip to Washington.
There was another story that very same day about the Arizona Supreme Court's
decision not to allow the recall election to go forward. John Rhodes, the
former congressman who had been tapped to run against Mofford, sounded
relieved. He and Mofford were old friends.
Mofford, who lives in Phoenix and is involved with local charities, is
hesitant to say much negative.
"I've known Cindy since she was a little girl, and the Hensleys have always
been very good to me," she says of McCain's wife and her family. "I don't
hold grudges."
But, she adds, regarding the CAP hearing, "that hurt me more than anything .
. . to be set up like that."
Others were upset, as well.
Karen Scates was on that trip and in that hearing room, as an executive
assistant to Mofford. (A one-time Udall aide, she's worked in many
capacities over the years, including for American Express and Kids Voting;
she's now in the Napolitano administration.) Scates does hold a grudge.
"Senator McCain did the unthinkable," she says. "He orchestrated a partisan,
mean-spirited, and utterly inexcusable hearing designed to embarrass
Governor Mofford by unfairly pressing her, only a week into her new job, for
minute details on the Central Arizona Project, which was the most sacrosanct
of all issues critical to Arizona."
James McClure is now retired. It's been 20 years, but, when reached by
phone, he remembered the incident immediately - though he wasn't sure of all
the particulars. He says he recalls the hearing because it was unusual in
that there was a strategy session beforehand.
"I know that there was such an effort," the former senator says of the
decision to ask Mofford tough questions. "I know that there was quite a
little conversation with my staff . . . I know we did ask [Mofford] a number
of questions because somebody had told us that she was not well grounded in
some of the issues, and it was designed to expose her lack of information."
As for McCain's specific involvement?
"I don't remember his involvement in it," McClure says. "I'm not saying he
wasn't, but I just don't remember."
Pat Murphy recalls hearing that McCain later called Mofford to apologize.
The former governor says no. She got a different kind of call from McCain.
"He said, 'I didn't have anything to do with that.' And I said, 'John, don't
ever call me again.'"
Rose Mofford started off our phone conversation about John McCain by
announcing: "He's certainly no Barry Goldwater or Mo Udall."
You hear that a lot around town these days, mainly because McCain tends to
bring up Goldwater and Udall a lot on the campaign trail. It drives some
people here nuts. Particularly those who know, or knew, all three men.
People who were around then say it was obvious that McCain moved to Arizona
to run for office. There have been several instances of such carpetbagging
by now (like Hillary Clinton in New York), but it wasn't as common in 1982.
To his credit, McCain worked hard and won a hotly contested four-way race to
represent the congressional district that covered Mesa, Tempe, and other
parts of the eastern portion of metropolitan Phoenix.
Then he had some catching up to do.
He did a lot of it, in the early days, with Mo Udall, the congressman from
Tucson. Udall liked to joke that he could hold meetings of the U.S. House
Democrats from Arizona in his bathtub. That might be why he worked so well
with Republicans. McCain took to him immediately and as Udall's top aide,
Bob Neuman, recalls, Udall was happy to help.
Neuman, who worked for Udall for many years in the 1970s and again in the
'80s, says McCain "clung to Mo," that he dropped by the office unannounced
all the time. This became awkward during the 1986 Senate race, Neuman says,
when Arizona Democratic Party operatives worried that McCain was using Udall
as a campaign tool. They asked Neuman to put some distance between the two.
Udall's aide tried to be subtle, but McCain got the message. And Neuman felt
his wrath. He refuses to repeat the expletives the then-congressman used
when he called to bawl him out, but recalls thinking there was something
really wrong with the guy.
Neuman says he thinks McCain did try, early on, to model himself after
Udall, in terms of developing both a sense of humor and a concern for
environmental issues.
In the end, though, McCain hasn't come out too Udall-esque on either front.
Udall's humor tended toward self-deprecation. During a rare break for a golf
game during the 1976 presidential campaign, someone asked him about his
handicap. "I'm a one-eyed Mormon Democrat from conservative Arizona," he
joked. "You can't find a higher handicap than that."
Neuman, who co-authored Udall's book Too Funny to Be President and is now a
consultant in Washington, concedes that Udall may not have found humor in
McCain's own repertoire of jokes.
One of the senator's most famous:
Why is Chelsea Clinton so ugly?
Because Janet Reno is her father.
Think that one was funny? How about one from 1986, recounted in an entry
last month on "The Huffington Post" blog. McCain's campaign denies it.
Apparently there's no video, but a Tucson reporter who wrote about it at the
time says it happened.
From Huffington:
In an appearance before the National League of Cities and Towns in
Washington, D.C., McCain supposedly asked the crowd if they had heard "the
one about the woman who is attacked on the street by a gorilla, beaten
senseless, raped repeatedly, and left to die?"
The punch line: "When she finally regains consciousness and tries to speak,
her doctor leans over to hear her sigh contently and to feebly ask, "Where
is that marvelous ape?"
"John McCain is the Eddie Haskell of politics," Neuman says, admitting he's
a little worried McCain won't find that comment funny at all. "You can
attribute that to me, and he'll kill me for it."
McCain did vote with Udall on environmental issues - for a while. But Udall
left Congress in 1991, and for years, McCain's earned dismal marks from
environmental groups, including a zero in the League of Conservation Voters'
most recent ratings.
Representatives of the local chapter of the Sierra Club haven't been able to
get a meeting with him in at least the past year, if not two. The last time
they did, he just complained that the group's positions were unrealistic,
recalls Sandy Bahr, the chapter's director.
McCain tends to support big-picture issues that will play well with voters,
but when it has come to protecting Arizona over the past 26 years - well,
not so much.
In the 1980s, McCain made a name for himself, supporting the limitation of
air flights over the Grand Canyon, but in recent years, backed off the
effort when environmentalists wanted to expand the limits from small tour
planes to commercial aviation. And he's taken a lot of heat recently for
refusing to weigh in on efforts to mine uranium near the Grand Canyon.
In fact, despite a vague statement issued last week saying he might, at some
point, support mining reform, McCain has failed for years to back proposed
changes to the horribly outdated Mining Act of 1872 - and evidence of that
is strewn all over Arizona in the form of large strip mines and
environmental degradation.
When it comes to Arizona environmental issues, though, McCain's best known
for an infamous U.S. Governmental Accountability Office report that details
threats he made to the job of a forest service official who dared to
disagree with him on the topic of the endangered Mount Graham red squirrel.
Not very Udall-esque.
Environmentalists were concerned that the University of Arizona's plan to
build telescopes would jeopardize the squirrels' habitat. Government
scientists agreed. McCain sided with the university.
And yet, the Udall comparison has stuck, mostly because McCain makes it
whenever he can. Even Newsweek, in an April cover story, noted the
phenomenon, writing of McCain:
"He traces his environmental awareness to the sainted Rep. Mo Udall, an
Arizona Democrat who took McCain as a young congressman under his tutelage .
. . To environmentalists, that's like saying you learned about civil rights
by driving around Alabama with Martin Luther King Jr."
Arizona environmentalists don't have a lot of patience with McCain, although
they do celebrate the crumbs he's handed them over the years.
Don Steuter, conservation chair for the Grand Canyon Chapter of the Sierra
Club, is quick to recall that once, in the '90s, one of McCain's aides came
out and toured several mining sites along Pinto Creek in rural Arizona, all
points of contention for environmentalists who worry about such issues as
where the mines will get ground water to operate and where they'll dump
their waste.
"McCain was, I have to say, at the time, sympathetic with what we were
trying to do. But he never came forward and offered any solutions," Steuter
recalls.
It was Barry Goldwater, long out of public life and a couple of years from
dying, who gave the Sierra Club a quote the group still uses in brochures:
"Pinto Creek is worth the strongest protection possible."
McCain also has been mentioning Goldwater a lot these days.
It's true that the elder statesman chose McCain to run for his Senate seat,
though some say McCain stepped over poor Bob Stump, the longtime Republican
Arizona congressman who, via seniority, had the right of first refusal.
(Stump died in 2003.)
Goldwater's endorsement letter is reprinted in a new book by his son, Barry
Goldwater Jr., and John Dean. And it's not the only letter in Pure Goldwater
about John McCain. The book reports that for a while after the 1986 senate
race, the men got along, but that Goldwater's feelings toward McCain started
to "cool" after the Keating scandal, and he "soon found he had to stop
McCain from using his good name."
Things really got ugly, according to the book - and accompanying letters -
when McCain decided to throw an event honoring Goldwater that was really
meant as a fundraiser for McCain. Goldwater wrote to McCain, chastising him
and telling him that he didn't wish to be honored. He also instructed McCain
to donate half the proceeds to the Arizona Republican Party. The event wound
up as a tribute to Ronald Reagan, instead. Goldwater did speak there, but
was unhappy afterward, as he wrote to McCain:
"You will recall during my speech at the dinner for the president in
Phoenix, I announced that you were going to give half of the funds you
raised to the State Republican Party. I am told by the Party, that you still
owe them $35,000, and unless you pay all of it, or most of it, they cannot
meet their payroll next Wednesday."
McCain continues to bring up both men. He does deserve credit for the time
he spent with Udall during his final years. "There was no steadier visitor,"
Bob Neuman recalls of McCain's visits to his old boss' bedside during
Udall's very long struggle with Parkinson's disease. And for that, Neuman
says, McCain earned his "respect and admiration and affection."
Until McCain went public with it.
In 1997, Michael Lewis profiled McCain for the New York Times Magazine.
Lewis' piece was well-written, and he did get great access to McCain. In
fact, the senator even took the journalist to the veterans hospital in
Washington, D.C., for one of his visits with Udall. According to Lewis,
McCain tried in vain to wake Udall that day. (Udall died the following
year.)
About the encounter, Neuman says, "That was devastating to me, that he
brought in a reporter. I thought that was crossing the line, and it
destroyed me."
I'm sure I would have accepted the offer to go the hospital, as well. I
can't blame Lewis, but maybe the sight of the legendary Mo Udall in his
final, sad days wasn't McCain's to share.
One morning this summer, my work phone rang.
"Hi, Amy, this is Tom Gosinski," a pleasant voice said.
"No way!"
Every other call I'd gotten about McCain, it seemed, had been from some
reporter wanting to know where he or she could find Tom Gosinski, the guy
who ultimately had led to the outing of Cindy McCain's drug addiction in
1993. I had told people honestly that I had no idea where Gosinski was; I
hadn't spoken to him in many years.
"It's me!"
"Okay, prove it," I said. "Tell me something that only Tom Gosinski would
know."
"I was wearing Pepe jeans the day I came to New Times, so you could
interview me for the Cindy McCain story."
It was him. True, he could have read that detail in my story about him, but
by then, I recognized the voice.
He'd been on my mind.
Tom Gosinski's is a story worth re-telling, since it's been parsed so much
in the national press.
Sometime in the spring of 1994, I'd started hearing the rumors that Cindy
McCain was addicted to prescription drugs. Bummer for her, but not a story -
at least not one that I'd be able to get.
Then I learned something that turned Cindy McCain's personal tragedy into a
real news story. Two unrelated sources told me about Tom Gosinski.
Gosinski was in his mid-30s, working two crappy part-time jobs to stay
afloat. He'd been fired months earlier from his position as director of
government and international affairs for the American Voluntary Medical
Team, McCain's non-profit charity, which brought medical relief to poor
countries all over the world.
Turns out, shortly after he was fired, Gosinski went to the Drug Enforcement
Administration. He'd suspected Cindy McCain was addicted to prescription
drugs and was getting a doctor who worked with AVMT to illegally prescribe
them in her employees' names.
Later, in an interview with New Times, Gosinski said he was not trying to
blackmail the McCains. He was worried about his own culpability, so he asked
the DEA officials a rhetorical question: "'If a person knows that
prescriptions have been written in their name, and they never met with the
doctor and they don't know the whereabouts of the drugs, what is their
responsibility?' And I was told it was my responsibility to turn it in. So
at that moment, I began to cooperate with the DEA."
Gosinski's suspicions were right. Dr. John Max Johnson, AVMT's medical
director, had written two prescriptions for painkillers in Gosinski's name,
at Cindy McCain's behest. He'd written more, too, in other people's names.
Some prescriptions, the DEA found, were for as many as 500 pills at a time.
Johnson told investigators that he never traveled with the drugs; Cindy
McCain kept them in her personal luggage. (Johnson later surrendered his
medical license.)
Gosinski didn't just go to the DEA. He also filed a wrongful-termination
claim against AVMT, which led John McCain's attorney, John Dowd (well known
for his over-the-top tactics on behalf of McCain and former Arizona Governor
Fife Symington) to persuade then-Maricopa County Attorney Rick Romley to
open an extortion investigation against Gosinski (it was eventually
dropped).
If Dowd had stayed out of it, there's a good chance this story would never
have gone public.
I heard that the U.S. Attorney's Office was investigating Cindy McCain, so I
asked for the details. Turns out, public-records law protects the feds;
there is no legal mandate to turn over materials related to an ongoing
federal investigation.
But that law does not apply to Maricopa County. So I asked the County
Attorney's Office for all materials related to the Gosinski extortion
investigation, and hit the jackpot: Because Cindy's drug problem was the
topic of Dowd's extortion case, the county attorney had received copies of
all of the federal records related to the case. I made a public-records
request.
I got notice that the records were ready. First, though, someone had told
the McCains. And so before my piece was even written, I watched their
carefully spun version splash across more than one front page and lead at
least one morning news show. Cindy McCain talked openly about her drug
addiction (although the details of just when John had learned about it and
about when she'd gone through rehab remained unclear) and attributed it to
the pain of two back surgeries and stress from the Keating Five scandal. The
McCains claimed Gosinski was trying to blackmail them.
Later, we did our own story at New Times ("Opiate for the Mrs.," September
8, 1994). Gosinski went on the record, and I also got hold of the journal
he'd kept during the time he worked at AVMT. Although he took a beating in
the affair, the journal revealed how conflicted he was over her
improprieties. For example:
"July 27, 1992: I have always wondered why John McCain has done nothing to
fix the problem. He must either not see that a problem exists or does not
choose to do anything about it. It would seem that it would be in everyone's
best interest to come to terms with the situation. And do whatever is
necessary to fix it. There is so much at risk: the welfare of the children;
John's political career; the integrity of Hensley & Company; the welfare of
Jim and Smitty Hensley; and the health and happiness of Cindy McCain.
"The aforementioned matters are of great concern to those directly involved,
but my main concern is the ability of AVMT to survive a major shake-up. If
the DEA were to ever conduct an audit of AVMT's inventory, I am afraid of
what the results might be . . . It is because of CHM's willingness to
jeopardize the credibility of those that work for her that I truly worry.
"During my short tenure at AVMT, I have been surrounded by what on the
surface appears to be the ultimate all-American family. In reality, I am
working for a very sad, lonely woman whose marriage of convenience to a U.S.
Senator has driven her to: distance herself from friends; cover feelings of
despair with drugs; and replace lonely moments with self-indulgences."
Ultimately, the U.S. Attorney did, in fact, investigate AVMT and Cindy
McCain. In the end, she avoided criminal charges and entered a
drug-diversion program. She also paid for the cost of the investigation. She
was lucky; if she were not well connected, she could have faced much harsher
penalties, including prison time.
When I spoke to him this past June, Tom Gosinski said he's doing well. He
left Arizona many years ago and took up a profession that has nothing to do
with his previous work. He doesn't want to talk about the McCains. (In fact,
when I e-mailed him after our phone conversation, asking if he'd like to
talk to me for this story, I never heard back.)
He called me because a private investigator had shown up on his mother's
doorstep that morning, looking for him, and they were spooked. He wanted to
know if I'd heard of the guy, who didn't identify his political camp. I
hadn't.
With a couple of exceptions, McCain never spoke to me again after the
Gosinski story. Word eventually trickled back (years later) that a few
months after the story was published, he'd cornered a close relative of mine
in the Senate Dining Room in Washington, asking why my family couldn't
control me.
Given the treatment McCain has long received from the national media, it's
easy to see why he gets frustrated by any negative coverage. At one point,
an editor of mine had a brilliant idea: document the glowing coverage McCain
was getting - even back then - from the national media. That resulted in
"The Pampered Politician" (May 15, 1997).
For months after that story ran, Deb Gullett, one of McCain's top staff,
sent me a copy of each additional positive national story, as it came out. I
have to admit, that was pretty funny. Better than the habit McCain's
Washington press staff had adopted when I'd call - promising to be right
back, then leaving me on hold until I finally hung up.
Even as the 2000 race heated up, coverage of McCain remained positive. No
one, it seemed, had a harsh word for the straight-talking war hero. So when
national media called, I felt an obligation to help.
I spent a lot of time working with producers for 60 Minutes to gather
background research for a piece Mike Wallace was doing on McCain, only to
have it deep-sixed when Wallace decided to do a positive story about the
senator. Ditto for Sam Donaldson. I should have learned after Wallace that
the press was willing to overlook political warts when it came to McCain,
but since I'd had a long conversation with Donaldson's producers, in which I
explained just what had happened with 60 Minutes, I didn't expect the same
to happen with 20/20.
From what I know, McCain didn't insert himself into the mix at 60 Minutes or
20/20; Wallace and Donaldson simply liked him. But he has tried to do it
elsewhere, particularly at his hometown daily, the Arizona Republic.
Back in the day, when McCain was first elected, he palled around with Duke
Tully, the infamous Republic publisher who was ousted when it was revealed
he'd fabricated his own military record.
Next, McCain and aforementioned publisher Pat Murphy were buddies; that
relationship fizzled in the late 1980s.
As far as I know, McCain was never close with Chip Weil, who served as
publisher, then CEO, at the Republic from 1991 to 2000.
Weil (officially, it's Louis "Chip" Weil III) is retired now. He serves on
the board of the USO. In a phone conversation, he laughs, remembering his
dealings with McCain, but it's easy to tell he took them seriously, too.
"He always had his own views of how a newspaper ought to be run, and he
didn't like the way we ran it," Weil says of McCain. "It's a free world, so
he's welcome to feel that way."
When poked, Weil admits the criticism wasn't always welcome or, in his view,
appropriate. He confirmed the story going around locally that when McCain
called, Weil's secretary would sometimes put the phone receiver down and let
the senator rant.
"We used to sit in the outer office and listen to him," Weil says, laughing.
Becoming more serious, he continues, "The question was, 'Who [was] running
the newspaper?'"
Weil says he didn't mind criticism but felt McCain was unreasonable in his
requests. The senator called Weil after a trip abroad to complain that the
story about his travels was on page 14, instead of the front page. This was
a time when McCain didn't even have serious opposition.
"Others were much more discreet about it. For instance, Jon Kyl, if he had
an issue, would call and discuss it, and it would be fine," he says of
Arizona's junior senator. "But McCain always seemed upset."
During the 2000 presidential campaign, Weil says, McCain traveled around the
country, complaining about the Republic.
"He'd tell editorial boards how awful his hometown paper was," Weil recalls.
"So I'd hear from my colleagues around the country. That was always fun."
Wouldn't that be a badge of honor to good journalists?
"I don't know," he says. "He's a United States senator, and you ought to
have respect for a United States senator."
On the first Tuesday in February, fortified with a cocktail or two, a few of
us from New Times attended John McCain's victory party at the Arizona
Biltmore.
We had no particular agenda, no immediate deadlines, though there was some
talk about watching history being made. After all, Super Tuesday was going
to put McCain over the top, making him the presumptive Republican nominee
for president.
The huge ballroom was packed. It felt like every Republican in town was
there. But not in a good way. I know people like to joke that Cindy McCain
looks like a Stepford Wife, but really, she's got nothing on the group that
night in the Biltmore's largest ballroom. Everywhere you looked, there were
well-coiffed zombies, all dutifully mingling. And sneaking peeks at their
watches.
A few of the people we chatted up - Congressman Jeff Flake, Tempe Mayor Hugh
Hallman, former Maricopa County Attorney Rick Romley - did seem genuinely
excited, but just about all the others were clearly there because they had
to be.
Maybe everyone was tired from a long workday. But it seemed that, really,
they were all profoundly bored and spending a lot of time looking around to
make sure someone important from the McCain campaign noted their presence
(just in case the Arizona senator wins, and a job opens up in D.C.).
From that night on, it has been difficult to find anyone who'll say an
unkind word about McCain. Some did, obviously, for this story, but I know
there are more.
Often, people wouldn't call back at all. Although he has plenty of harsh
comments for McCain in his book, Barry Goldwater Jr. never could be reached
for comment.
Some I tried to talk to were apologetic about not being able to spill. They
work for ASU or the governor or a conservative think tank or a liberal think
tank or they lobby Congress. Or, like John Hinz, the one-time executive
director of the Arizona Republican Party, who recounted some tales of the
senator's temper for the Washington Post this spring, they've gotten the
message that it's not a good idea to say anything negative about McCain.
It's hard to keep track of the shifting alliances. Paul Johnson, former
mayor of Phoenix, who spent much of the early 1990s publicly loathing the
senator, is now a Democrat for McCain. But lobbyist Knox Kimberly, who once
ran McCain's local congressional office, is a big Barack Obama supporter.
Grant Woods, McCain's first chief of staff, was very close friends with
McCain, until a public falling out in the early '90s, when the senator
shunned him for investigating his pal, Fife Symington.
Now Woods is back in the McCain camp. He was at the Biltmore on election
night. I saw him from across the room. He didn't return my call for this
story.
Nor did anybody representing McCain get back to me after I contacted his
campaign for this article.
Maybe some of the dreariness of the Biltmore event could be blamed on the
large area roped off for the national press - a group of sad-looking,
credentialed folks who could clearly suck the life out of any room. Tucker
Carlson stood watching the action, arms crossed, looking like he'd rather be
anywhere else.
Postmodern McCain is just not as much fun as his predecessor, the
straight-ahead, shit-talking bad guy.
Watching him up on the stage, struggling with the teleprompter, Cindy
looking miserable next to him, I almost pitied the GOP's presumptive
nominee. No more nasty jokes, no public outbursts. He's reduced to talking
about climate change and accusing Obama of being the media's flavor of the
day.
"Don't feel sorry for him," a friend said. "The guy might wind up
president."
I wonder if that "'I'll embarrass a Democrat any time I get the
chance.'" carries over to Russians?
I wonder if that "I'll do anything to cut Democrats" line goes equally
for the Russians? Anyone explain to Bush and McCain that this is
really a bridge too far?
We Are All Georgians
By JOHN MCCAIN
August 14, 2008; Page A13
For anyone who thought that stark international aggression was a thing
of the past, the last week must have come as a startling wake-up call.
After clashes in the Georgian region of South Ossetia, Russia invaded
its neighbor, launching attacks that threaten its very existence. Some
Americans may wonder why events in this part of the world are any
concern of ours. After all, Georgia is a small, remote and obscure
place. But history is often made in remote, obscure places.
As Russian tanks and troops moved through the Roki Tunnel and across
the internationally recognized border into Georgia, the Russian
government stated that it was acting only to protect Ossetians. Yet
regime change in Georgia appears to be the true Russian objective.
Two years ago, I traveled to South Ossetia. As soon as we arrived at
its self-proclaimed capital -- now occupied by Russian troops -- I saw
an enormous billboard that read, "Vladimir Putin, Our President." This
was on sovereign Georgian territory.
Russian claims of humanitarian motives were further belied by a
bombing campaign that encompassed the whole of Georgia, destroying
military bases, apartment buildings and other infrastructure, and
leaving innocent civilians wounded and killed. As the Russian Black
Sea Fleet began concentrating off of the Georgian coast and Russian
troops advanced on one city after another, there could be no doubt
about the nature of their aggression.
Despite a French-brokered cease-fire -- which worryingly does not
refer to Georgia's territorial integrity -- Russian attacks have
continued. There are credible reports of civilian killings and even
ethnic cleansing as Russian troops move deeper into Georgian
territory.
Moscow's foreign minister revealed at least part of his government's
aim when he stated that "Mr. Saakashvili" -- the democratically
elected president of Georgia -- "can no longer be our partner. It
would be better if he went." Russia thereby demonstrated why its
neighbors so ardently seek NATO membership.
In the wake of this crisis, there are the stirrings of a new trans-
Atlantic consensus about the way we should approach Russia and its
neighbors. The leaders of Poland, Estonia, Lithuania, Ukraine and
Latvia flew to Tbilisi to demonstrate their support for Georgia, and
to condemn Russian aggression. The French president traveled to Moscow
in an attempt to end the fighting. The British foreign minister hinted
of a G-8 without Russia, and the British opposition leader explicitly
called for Russia to be suspended from the grouping.
The world has learned at great cost the price of allowing aggression
against free nations to go unchecked. A cease-fire that holds is a
vital first step, but only one. With our allies, we now must stand in
united purpose to persuade the Russian government to end violence
permanently and withdraw its troops from Georgia. International
monitors must gain immediate access to war-torn areas in order to
avert an even greater humanitarian disaster, and we should ensure that
emergency aid lifted by air and sea is delivered.
We should work toward the establishment of an independent,
international peacekeeping force in the separatist regions, and stand
ready to help our Georgian partners put their country back together.
This will entail reviewing anew our relations with both Georgia and
Russia. As the NATO secretary general has said, Georgia remains in
line for alliance membership, and I hope NATO will move ahead with a
membership track for both Georgia and Ukraine.
At the same time, we must make clear to Russia's leaders that the
benefits they enjoy from being part of the civilized world require
their respect for the values, stability and peace of that world. The
U.S. has cancelled a planned joint military exercise with Russia, an
important step in this direction.
The Georgian people have suffered before, and they suffer today. We
must help them through this tragedy, and they should know that the
thoughts, prayers and support of the American people are with them.
This small democracy, far away from our shores, is an inspiration to
all those who cherish our deepest ideals. As I told President
Saakashvili on the day the cease-fire was declared, today we are all
Georgians. We mustn't forget it.
Mr. McCain is the Republican nominee for president.
It's rhetoric, nothing else.
Georgia isn't getting into NATO after this lot any time soon. The Ukraine
may, if the EC can bring themselves to follow the UK's lead and offer them
membership of that first, but, and it's a big 'but', Turkey is in line
before The Ukraine for EC membership and won't like it if they jump the
queue...
The US political system spends a lot of time ignoring the significance of
the EC and treating it merely a trade organisation, which it no longer
is...
It has become significant as a sort of proto 'super state' and the
inclusion, or not, of The Ukraine is a major political factor in its
growth.
--
William Black
I've seen things you people wouldn't believe.
Barbeques on fire by the chalets past the castle headland
I watched the gift shops glitter in the darkness off the Newborough gate
All these moments will be lost in time, like icecream on the beach
Time for tea.
Ireland rather delayed the federalization of the EU.
You're so dense that sometimes it's frightening.
If you get The Ukraine and Turkey into the EC the federalism thing is dead
dead dead.
That's why the current government of the UK wants it.
The reason the UK wants it is because the UK's population doesn't want a
federal Europe and distrusts the EC machinery, but would stand for a union
that didn't have that much political power.
France wouldn't stand for a federal system with a big Moslem state in it and
the Germans don't want one with a big Slavic state in it so to get what they
want the UK (and a couple of others but the UK is the major player here)
wants to get either Turkey or The Ukraine into the EC.
Turkey seems like a non-starter these days, but The Ukraine is looking good
at the moment, as long as they can resist the pull of NATO, because we've
all just seen exactly what happens when FSU states try that one...
if england is so opposed to a federal EU why did they approve the lisbon
treaty?
Once again, you don't understand how European, and especially EC, politics
works.
None of the major EC countries can be seen to oppose any major EC initiative
. To do so would produce factions in what is supposed to be a united front
by the major EC nations.
So they have to work in a manner that is circuitous.
The UK government (Not 'England' you half educated ponce) opposes a federal
EC but cannot be seen to oppose France and Germany at any one time. But
their alliance with one of the other 'majors' would bring the other 'on
side'.
Look Ray, you're a man/child/thing of very little brain, why not just
accept that European politics is well beyond your intellectual
capabilities...
that is a fantasy of hinesian proportions.
right the UK and the USSR wasn't russia either..
scotland and wakes "willingly" joined at sword point.
> scotland and wakes "willingly" joined at sword point.
>
Scotland asked to join in.
They bankrupted themselves in a colonial adventure that went horribly wrong.
And it's 'Wales'.
Ray, politics is easy. You're always wrong, always, always, always.
Piss off now, you're dismissed.
It's also worth noting that Wales and Scotland went through their acts of
Union with England when England was ruled by a Welsh and a Scottish
dynasty, respectively. Not, I think, that Henry 8 had the identification
with Wales that his father did, but it's instructive just how many of the
high officials of the Tudor period came from families from a very compact
area of NE Wales, all of whom had been out with Glyndwr a
century-and-a-bit before - just like the Tudors were.
--
Andy Breen ~ Not speaking on behalf of the University of Wales, Aberystwyth
Feng Shui: an ancient oriental art for extracting
money from the gullible (Martin Sinclair)
Be careful.
You'll confuse Ray with some facts again.
He/she/it doesn't like facts.
> It's rhetoric, nothing else.
How many issues can McCain keep straight at any one time? You really
want him as the next POTUS?
-------------------------------------------------------
McCain: "In The 21st Century Nations Don't Invade Other Nations"
August 13, 2008 04:46 PM
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2008/08/13/mccain-in-the-21st-centur_n_118759.html
Speaking to reporters about the situation in Georgia, Sen. John McCain
denounced the aggressive posture of Russia by claiming that:"in the
21st century nations don't invade other nations."
It was the type of foreign policy rhetorical blunder that has
regularly plagued the McCain campaign and could have diplomatic
ripples as well. Certainly the comment was meant in innocence. But for
those predisposed to the notion that the U.S. is an increasingly
arrogant international actor, the suggestion by a presidential
candidate that, in this day and age, countries don't invade one
another -- when the U.S. is occupying two foreign nations -- does
little to alleviate that negative perception.
There is another, less controversial undertone to McCain's remark.
Since the Georgia-Russia hostilities have commenced, parallels have
been drawn to U.S. intervention in Iraq. The two scenarios are highly
different in all intents and purposes, both due to regional
significance and the longstanding territorial disputes. But some still
would dispute the idea, as McCain seemed to imply, that America's
involvement in Iraq is any less an invasion than Russia's involvement
in Georgia.
Later in his press conference, McCain was asked to address how the
Georgian crisis -- which has ceded to a tenuous ceasefire -- was
amplified on the campaign trail. The presumptive Republican nominee
demurred from attempts to get him to engage with Barack Obama.
"This isn't a time for partisanship and sniping between campaigns," he
said. "This is about hundreds of thousand of individuals whose lives
are being taken... Maybe later on in the campaign let's have a back
and forth about whose comments and statements... but now lets devote
all our efforts to resolving a situation that is fraught with
tragedy."
A subsequent questioner asked McCain whether this non-partisan window
applied to Sen. Joseph Lieberman as well, who, at a townhall on
Tuesday, suggested that Barack Obama had not always "put his country
first." McCain's answer was classically evasive.
"Let me respond by just saying that I think that whatever we think at
the moment that we can all reserve that for a future time. And I think
that judgments will be made about how we handled this situation and
approached the situation in Iraq and how much experience knowledge and
background means in selecting who should be the next commander in
chief, all I can say is there will be plenty of time for that and we
can move forward. "
unitentional irony is a republican thing
I was embarrassed for McCain when I saw him (on TV) say that.
- nilita
It's insulting that McCain thinks nobody will notice that 20 some odd
million Iraqis would probably take issue with that ridiculous statement.
IAC, going back to the thread title, Joe Stalin was a Georgian......I am
not. I can't stop him from saying whatever he wishes to say, but I can
point out that he does NOT speak for me.
George Z.
Ich bin ein Berliner.
Oh wait, Hitler was a Berliner.
>
> George Z.
>
No problem with your post, just where you put it.
"Jack Linthicum" <jackli...@earthlink.net> wrote in message
news:04957def-ef1e-4b02...@k37g2000hsf.googlegroups.com...
Dan, U.S. Air Force, retired
Austrian
Where would you have suggested? You posted an item on McCain, I posted
an item on McCain. Theme was very similar. Shrug
And not even Aryan.
Nope
Austrian
Vince
old urban myth
vince
> Oh wait, Hitler was a Berliner.
Goodness there are some scarily ill informed people about...
Might have been a bastard too. Funny how his family seemed to
disappear once he was Chancellor.
hitler was viennese
speaking of urban myths.
Then why was he born at the Gasthof zum Pommer, an inn in Braunau am
Inn, Austria-Hungary, on 20 April 1889?
He had a niece who "commited suicide".
>
> Might have been a bastard too. Funny how his family seemed to
> disappear once he was Chancellor.
Hitler's sister survived in Germany after the war. He had a brother in
the UK during the war, a brother in Germany during the war and there are
two nephews currently living in the U.S. who have apparently decided to
not have children because of him. This is from memory, so I don't recall
if the siblings are half or full.
Not really.....he was "eine osterreicher" (an Austrian) who crawled out from
under the rock not very far from Vienna.
George Z.
It would have stood on its own just fine.
I was born on Whiteman AFB in Missouri, GI brat with kindergarten at Offut
AFB Nebraska, elementary school at Grand Forks AFB ND, JR and SR High School
in Lompoc California and have been living in Phoenix AZ for the last 14
years. 19 if you count my time at Williams AFB as a young airman.
I could say both Lompoc CA and Phoenix AZ, might mention Whiteman but
wouldn't really claim it even though I spent my sophomore year in HS there
and my parents are from Springfield MO.
Its not where you are born, it is where your heart is.
I knew Hitler was born Austrian but I think even the village idiot knows his
heart was German. Berlin? My guess is it's the longest he lived anywhere.
Goodness there are some scarily ill informed people about
>
You're even more ignorant that I imagined.
Hitler was born Austrian, he became a citizen of Brunswick in 1932.
He moved permanently to Berlin only after becoming Chancellor in 1933.
His party's main power centre was always Munich where he lived from the end
of WWI until 1932.
I don't think he ever owned or occupied a private house in Berlin.
As for your education, it obviously didn't take.
--
William Black
I've seen things you people wouldn't believe.
Barbeques on fire by the chalets past the castle headland
I watched the gift shops glitter in the darkness off the Newborough gate
All these moments will be lost in time, like icecream on the beach
Time for tea.
fancy being brought up in
Why would he do that? I'm sure he had a fine place to live in Berlin for
free
Sort of
> Sort of
>
> http://www.allbusiness.com/middle-east/israel/843052-1.html
>
Official residence.
Provided by the state.
I wonder what he spent his money on?
He was quite wealthy as his book was issued as a standard text book in
schools and a copy given to every newly married couple.
There was one bit in Internet on Haus Hitler
http://www.germanarchitecturaldrawings.com/index.cfm?siteid=179&p=369
if you'll observe the life in another country from another era through
the crooked perceptional prism of the primitive modern "american way of
life", a lot of thing will not fit and, consequently, there will be lots
of things to "wonder" about. what i don't get is the point of this
strange exercise.
There's no particular point to it. It evolves from the freedom of speech
that we all enjoy on the internet and posted conversations "morph" from one
thing to another according to the interests of those taking part in it. For
instance, I entered this thread a while back to protest being included in
McCain's "we" referred to in the thread title. Subsequently, apart from one
posting regarding Hitler being an "osterreicher", I dropped out of it due to
lack of interest.
That's the way these things go, or perhaps meander might be a more
descriptive verb.
George Z.
Interesting.
What on earth makes you think I live in America or have anything much to do
with the 'American way of life'?
i don't (you sig appears to be australian). i just used it as an euphemism.
Australian!
Oh dear...
Well, I did try...
Try looking at the email address...
i'm not calling you australian, i'm just pointing out the fact that you
sig is not only non-american, but also something an american would never
choose for a sig.
and he lived in vienna starting when he was 16.
Why ever not?
It's a parody from a speech in a very American movie.