Stay in politics long enough, and you’ll have your share of enemies. Sen. John McCain has some, as well as those who feel he’s unworthy of their respect (though that seems a stretch). I imagine this comes mostly from votes he’s cast or viewpoints he’s held through the years. Regardless, people get to have their opinions for whatever reasons they like.

I’ve been fortunate, mostly through work or connections with others, to have spent a small amount of time with Sen. McCain over the past three decades. But I certainly don’t know him like others do, and now is no time to pretend such closeness.

But I do know many people who are close to Sen. McCain, who know him well from working in a trusted capacity in Arizona or Washington, DC. They like him, love him, respect him.

And one thing is certain: not one of those folks, not one, ever, has said to me something like, “Yeah, but you should see him when the camera’s not on.” Sen. McCain is, as they say, who he is. The real deal, the genuine article.

That’s a rare quality anywhere in life, but in politics it should be considered a national treasure. We’re blessed with so few.

It’s said we don’t know what we’ve got until it’s gone. Not in this case.

Also, now seems like a good time to remind folks that there is a town named Maverick, Arizona. It’s on the Fort Apache Indian Reservation, about four miles south of Pacheta Lake (a small, gorgeous, high mountain lake, from which I once pulled out two trout simultaneously on the same fishing line).

But if you type “Maverick Arizona” into Google search about now, you’ll also get page after page of articles and information about Sen. John McCain. Rightfully so.

Not sure if the Senator ever stepped foot in Maverick, but wouldn’t it have been cool if he did?

When I was a kid there was a National Weather Service station in Maverick, and every now and then in the summer months, Arizona would have the high temperature in the nation (say, in Gila Bend) and also the low, in Maverick. The high and low…in the entire country…within a few hours of each other. Always thought that was cool (or, hot).


I read a little this morning about Sen. McCain’s children, and one of them said his father wanted his kids to have “an appreciation for the poetry life.”

I’d like to think the Senator would find it poetic that there’s a town named Maverick, Arizona, that came about long before him, and will remain long after, but that at least in some way will now be connected to him out in the Google ether forever.