This One Goes out to Dan Hilldale: Though the eyes might tell you different, the musical MVP of this one is the guy who just sticks that complicated falsetto harmony higher than any non-Gibb dare go.
Is that an interesting choice? Kinda, yeah. Recall that 1973 was the year McCain returned from 5 and a half years of extreme isolation in Vietnam. So not only did he get to see this free-wheeling 1970s movie (note the Mad magazine graphics), but it was also about something he knew well -- raising hell in 1962! Also, it was shot in Modesto ... and who the hell doesn't love Modesto?
I sure liked American Graffiti when I was 14, even if the whiff of nostalgia was heavy enough to choke on; can't really imagine how it's holding up these days. Anyone seen it in the last decade or so?
Might you consider borrowing, say, $5 million from your wife, Cindy, an heiress to an Arizona beer-distribution fortune?
I would never do such a thing. I don't think it's the appropriate thing to do. Why not? You'd consider it an insult to your masculine pride?
No, it really isn't masculine pride. It's more that I think getting small donations is part of campaigning. It's part of whether you can succeed or fail. I think that's going to be the key to our success in the future, whether we can get the small-donor base.
He sure didn't think that way back in 1982, when he was campaigning as an unknown carpetbagger in the congressional district in which his wife bought a house on the very day the longstanding local Republican congressman announced his retirement! Here's how he used Cindy's money back then, according to the Arizona Republic:
McCain's first campaign benefited from his wife's personal wealth, some of which had been tied up in a trust set up in 1971 by her parents, Jim and Marguerite "Smitty" Hensley.
In 1981, the trust expired and was dissolved, giving Cindy McCain a half interest in Western Leasing Co., a truck-leasing business controlled by her father, said Trevor Potter, general counsel to the McCain 2000 campaign and former chairman of the Federal Election Commission.
In 1982, Cindy McCain received $639,000 from Western Leasing, according to a financial disclosure report filed by McCain. Potter said that figure reflects Cindy's income on paper, not the actual cash she received, which was about $250,000.
In any case, that same year, the McCains lent $169,000 of their own money to the campaign. Western Leasing, in part, made those loans possible, Potter said.
"Her financial assets played a part in allowing them to loan money to the campaign," Potter said. "And her financial assets included the income from Western Leasing."
Western Leasing was not the only income the McCains had in 1982. They earned a combined $130,000 in salary and bonuses from Hensley and Co., the beer distributorship controlled by Cindy's father. John also had his Navy pension, which paid $31,000 a year. [...]
Under 1982 election rules, it was legal for McCain to tap his wife's assets, as well as his own, when making personal loans to the campaign. In 1983, the rules were rewritten, with tighter guidelines on the use of family money.
As far as I understand federal campaign law (not very far), Cindy can only donate $2,300, just like anybody else. So yeah, Man of Principle, etc.
Christopher Hitchens Decries U.S. Hegemony Over Iraq and the Middle East: In March 1991, that is. One of many retrospectively ironical bits I stumbled across when researching the McCain book was this Hitchens column in The Nation about the "Turkey Shoot" targeted at retreating Iraqi soldiers fleeing back home from Kuwait, where they had been routed. Excerpt:
On the night of the Soviet-brokered Iraqi acceptance of Resolution 660, I had a television debate with Senator John McCain, the Republican hawk from Arizona and (as well as leading Keating-fancier) a prominent enemy of the Vietnam syndrome. He thought the Administration could, and probably should, accept the withdrawal offer. So did the moderators, Patrick Buchanan and Michael Kinsley. So let it be remembered that on the eve of the turkey shoot the political heirs of Barry Goldwater, Joseph McCarthy and Adlai Stevenson all thought that a solution short of slaughter was possible and desirable. I felt surreal and lonely as I argued that the Bush-Quayle team would reject the deal. Kuwait was a sideshow to them. They wanted to give the troops some desert-fighting experience (after all, America is going to be in this region for a long time to come) and they wanted, in Bush's words, to show that "what we say goes." [...]
I look forward to the editions of Sesame Street and other special programming in place of cartoon fare in which American children will have the turkey shoot explained to them. I look forward to more statements from American peaceniks explaining how it is that they support the troops but not the war. I especially look forward to fresh Augustinian tautologies from our churchmen about proportionality in a just war. But perhaps we may be relieved of the necessity for these reassurances. After all, if no misgivings are expressed, where is the need for rationalization?
[T]his year of grace 1991 is the year in which the United States has become the direct inheritor of the British Empire in the Middle East. From ruling by unsavory proxies (such as, before August 2 last, the vile Saddam himself) we have moved into a period of direct engagement and permanent physical presence. Moments like this are traditionally marked by some condign lesson being meted out to the locals. The fantastic, exemplary bloodletting that took place after the ostensible issue of the conflict had been decided was in that tradition. I can hardly wait for the parades. And I now know what the boring catch phrase of the day really means. It means an Order imposed by the New World.