Hitchhiking on the Straight Talk Express

Bill White

July 26, 2008

I got an interesting e-mail Monday afternoon.

Sen. John McCain had extra room on the Straight Talk Express bus Wednesday afternoon. ''You want in?'' my editor asked. ''If they'll have you?''

Of course. I called a guy on McCain's advance team, gave him my vital statistics and was instructed to show up at his headquarters in the Westgate Mall at 4 p.m.

As it turns out, I missed all the action at King's supermarket, subject of the national stories on his visit. I arrived just in time to talk my way into his jammed campaign office, hear his remarks there and watch him work through the crowd to the door. After that, it was a lot of waiting.

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The four of us scheduled to join McCain were herded into one area and scanned with a metal-detecting wand, in my case for the second time. (I look shifty.) We would have him to ourselves for the time it took to get from the mall to the airport, we were told. Plane wheels up at 6 p.m.

They led us outside and had us stand beside McCain's campaign bus. Crowds were gathered beyond ropes in either direction, including a group of kids from the Youth for Oil group with signs and T-shirts that said ''Where's My Oil? Ask Congress.''

Apparently, they want more domestic drilling -- I always wondered what teens talk about when they congregate at malls -- so they're pro-McCain.

The sky had been darkening for a while, and it started pouring. The McCain fans in the parking lot just stood there getting soaked, hoping for a glimpse of their candidate.

We were under cover, luckily. While we waited, we chatted with his advance guys about the bad weather they've endured and their encounters with celebrity Republicans, including my childhood hero Fess Parker -- Davy Crockett, a fellow Tennessean -- and actress Bo Derek.

Finally, McCain turned up again, bounding down the sidewalk like a guy who isn't 71 years old. He greeted the Youth for Oil kids and got on the bus. Then we were waved on board.

I once did a Christmas lights tour in a local bank's fancy Winnebago, but that crate was falling apart. The Straight Talk Express was seriously plush. We walked to the back, where McCain was at a table, and sat down on either side of him.

I've heard Republicans grumble about the media's fascination with Sen. Barack Obama, but McCain has gotten great press over the years, too. The people who cover him really like the guy.

Now I understand why. He's extremely warm and likable. I've interviewed celebrities who treated it as a chore; I got no sense of that from him.

Waving through the window at all those drowned Republicans, he seemed genuinely touched. ''It's a little bit humbling, to tell you the truth,'' he said wistfully.

We didn't have much time with him, although we were hoping for a traffic jam. I had mulled hitting him with something that would take him completely by surprise -- one of my blog readers, joking about one of my regular blog features, suggested, ''I would have given him a list of movie quotes and see how he did'' -- but in the end, my questions were pretty ordinary. Is there one issue, such as abortion, that's a litmus test for a vice presidential nominee? Does he feel pressure from all the focus on candidate gaffes? My next one, which I wish I'd had time for, would have been about Karl Rove's role in his campaign.

I wasn't expecting us to bust loose any surprises, and we didn't. I left feeling the same way I did when I arrived, admiring the man much more than some of his positions.

There were other supporters out on the tarmac when we arrived at the airstrip where his Straight Talk Express plane was waiting. McCain, oblivious to the rain, pumped hands and chatted before climbing on board. The plane took off at exactly 6 p.m. Next stop: Ohio.

Oh, and on the off chance Sen. McCain sees this column at some point:

''They're gonna need some more FBI guys, I guess.'' Name the movie.

Hey, he probably could use the diversion.

bill.white@mcall.com 610-861-3632

Bill White's commentary appears Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays.