John McCain's Very Bad Day
By Michael Scherer/ WAYNE, MICH.
TIME.com
Anytime John McCain declines to speak to the press, something horrible must be happening.
Back in New Hampshire, McCain held press conferences after every event, taking questions from reporters more often than he'd rub his lucky nickel. In Iowa, he would talk to scribes for hours on his bus, get off and then 30 minutes later hold an avail. The journalists would look at each other, bemused and defeated, with no questions left.
But Thursday was a different matter. In the wake of a scandalous New York Times story suggesting a romantic fling with a lobbyist, McCain arrived at a Ford Focus car assembly plant with a decidedly tense grin plastered across his face. His campaign staff promptly separated anyone with a pen or a tape recorder from the candidate. "The McCain campaign decided who they wanted on the tour, and it's only photographers," a nice lady from Ford announced after a reporter spotted the candidate behind a car chassis and tried to approach him.
He certainly needed some time without interrogation. The day started off rocky enough at a morning press conference in Toledo. "It's not true," McCain said of the Times piece, as if three words would be the end of it. But the questions kept coming. Did you have a romantic relationship with the lobbyist, Vicki Iseman? "No." Did you ever talk to your staff about their concerns about his relationship? "No." Were you closer to Iseman than other lobbyists? "No." Do you regret writing letters to the FCC on her behalf? "No." Then McCain's wife Cindy took the microphone. "My children and I not only trust my husband," she said, "but know that he would never do anything to not only disappoint our family but to disappoint the people of America."
(Continued here.)
TIME.com
Anytime John McCain declines to speak to the press, something horrible must be happening.
Back in New Hampshire, McCain held press conferences after every event, taking questions from reporters more often than he'd rub his lucky nickel. In Iowa, he would talk to scribes for hours on his bus, get off and then 30 minutes later hold an avail. The journalists would look at each other, bemused and defeated, with no questions left.
But Thursday was a different matter. In the wake of a scandalous New York Times story suggesting a romantic fling with a lobbyist, McCain arrived at a Ford Focus car assembly plant with a decidedly tense grin plastered across his face. His campaign staff promptly separated anyone with a pen or a tape recorder from the candidate. "The McCain campaign decided who they wanted on the tour, and it's only photographers," a nice lady from Ford announced after a reporter spotted the candidate behind a car chassis and tried to approach him.
He certainly needed some time without interrogation. The day started off rocky enough at a morning press conference in Toledo. "It's not true," McCain said of the Times piece, as if three words would be the end of it. But the questions kept coming. Did you have a romantic relationship with the lobbyist, Vicki Iseman? "No." Did you ever talk to your staff about their concerns about his relationship? "No." Were you closer to Iseman than other lobbyists? "No." Do you regret writing letters to the FCC on her behalf? "No." Then McCain's wife Cindy took the microphone. "My children and I not only trust my husband," she said, "but know that he would never do anything to not only disappoint our family but to disappoint the people of America."
(Continued here.)
Powered by Blogger
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home