Almost Seven Wonders
The Almost Seven Wonders files
Today’s Los Angeles Times contrasts McCain’s claims on how he dumped his injured first wife, the one who was faithful to him the whole time he was in Vietnam, for millionaire booze heiress Cindy Hensley, finding pretty sleazy behavior right in the public record:
McCain, who is about to become the GOP nominee, has made several statements about how he divorced Carol and married Hensley that conflict with the public record.
In his 2002 memoir, Worth the Fighting For, McCain wrote that he had separated from Carol before he began dating Hensley.
An examination of court documents tells a different story. McCain did not sue his wife for divorce until Feb. 19, 1980, and he wrote in his court petition that he and his wife had “cohabited” until Jan. 7 of that year — or for the first nine months of his relationship with Hensley.
Although McCain suggested in his autobiography that months passed between his divorce and remarriage, the divorce was granted April 2, 1980, and he wed Hensley in a private ceremony five weeks later. McCain obtained an Arizona marriage license on March 6, 1980, while still legally married to his first wife.
You apply for a wedding license to a millionaire blonde while still married to the mother of your children, and then write a memoir that out-and-out lies about it?
More straight talk from a true maverick.
While we’re at it, more of McCain’s strange version of straight talk can be viewed here (where he literally squirms with discomfort while dodging simple questions about birth control), here, here, here, here, here, and (in a couple of nice roundups, because I don’t have all day) here and here.
A brief and final update on my buddy Mike Irwin, fighting stage four bone cancer since the startling and sudden diagnosis just a few months ago.
He didn’t make it. Mike passed away, surrounded by loved ones and at a reasonable amount of peace, this morning.
There are a lot of things I’d like to say about him, but I’ll keep it simple. He taught me a lot about stand-up comedy, about politics, and just about getting through life. Mike was funny, Mike was smart, Mike cared deeply about somehow making a more compassionate, rational world, but more than anything, Mike was kind. Everything else I could write would just be illustrations.
Last time I saw Mike was in his hospital room, the night before my flight home. We both knew it might be the last time we would see each other.
The conversation could have been kinda hard, but fortunately there was a good baseball game on, so we put it on, just like we used to do back when I lived with him in Chicago, back when we were both young and starting out not so long ago. We talked about the big things sort of in between the spaces of the game, just like we always did. We said the stuff we needed to say. And in between we cheered and booed. One last night of something like normality, right there amid all the tubes and pumps and horrible hospital crap.
It was wonderful.
I’ll always be glad for that night, both for his sake and mine.
If you’ve got folks you love you haven’t spoken to in a while, do. One of the most important things you can do while you’re here, I think. And you never know how fast the time can go.
btw, I understand some folks reading this might want to send a note of condolences. Thanks, but no need. It’s just grief. It’s part of life. If you want to, just take that energy and put it into hugging your own loved ones like you mean it. That’ll do more good. And maybe go over the the fund set up for Mike and his family and chip in a few.