Who says little guys don’t count in politics? In 2000, I sent the John McCain campaign a $25 donation as a tiny, insufficient way of saying thanks to a man who has served our country well and suffered greatly in that service.
Was my miniature gift lost in the hectic fray of the campaign? No way. Not only did I receive countless thanks for my thanks from the McCain campaign, all of them bearing little envelopes, but the McCain campaign (unbeknownst to him, I’m sure) sent word of my thanks to a dozen other Republican candidates from the White House to the county judge’s office, and I began to get various yoo-hoos from them, which have continued lo these seven years despite financial silence from my end.
Despite all that, I still feel okay about my tiny donation and my subsequent vote for McCain in the 2000 primary before his campaign fizzled. I think he’s a good man. And, despite my yellow-dog in-laws’ fears, nothing bad happened to me because of the vote. No body parts fell off. My lungs did not collapse.
Now, of course, he’s going for it again, and he hasn’t forgotten the little guys. To date I’ve received at least three mailers and a half-dozen e-mails from McCain 2008, even before his official kickoff.
Alas, things aren’t going well for the McCainster. He needs me. Now is the time for all good men. . .
But I just don’t think I can do it again. I’ve lost faith in the war, a subject I’ll probably visit again. I don’t want to hop in the time machine and return to the WMD and Powell’s speech and the liberators and the partially redacted documents and the fuzzy intelligence and the pre-Vanity Fair Valerie Plame.
I have no doubt that had John McCain been president the past four years, we would not have this fiasco in Iraq. He would never have allowed the war to be conducted this way. But he wasn’t president, and now he never will be.
And more than four years into this badly handled war, today, we have a bombing inside the Iraqi Parliament itself. Thanks again for your service, Senator McCain. You’re a good man. But this may be a bridge too far.