The Other McCain

"One should either write ruthlessly what one believes to be the truth, or else shut up." — Arthur Koestler

Asking Tip-Jar Hitters to Send Me to Cancun? Probably Not Worth Trying

Posted on | November 30, 2010 | 2 Comments

Chris Horner at The American Spectator calls to our attention the fact that the latest effort to coerce us into adopting the Kyoto protocols — the holy writ of the global-warming cult — involves bringing 15,000 participants to the Mexican beach resort of Cancun for two entire weeks.

(Video via Instapundit.) The overwhelming majority of these climate-change cultists are, of course, traveling at the expense of taxpayers. If they aren’t government officials, they’re university professors or employees of NGOs funded by tax-exempt “philanthropic” foundations.

Unfortunately, my quest to find a right-wing billionaire to fund my own personal 501(c)3 has so far been futile, and I doubt anyone’s going to hit the tip jar for $2,300 ($400 for airfare + $1,900 for two weeks at the Cancun Hyatt) so that I can go cover the shenanigans of these idiots. Funding such an expedition via PayPal contributions is not absolutely impossible — if 115 readers each kicked in $20, for example — but it is probably a bad idea because:

  • A. You don’t need a gonzo reporter to know that the global-warming crowd is a pack of fools; and
  • B. My wife would kill me.

So unless you’re willing to pay for me to take Mrs. Other McCain along on that two-week vacation investigative reporting trip to Cancun, let’s not even talk about it.

By the way, I’ve decided that “Make My Wife Happy” Day should be extended to “Make My Wife Happy” Week — just because. I’m actually planning to spend the whole month of December at home, after gallivanting all over America the past year while covering the Tea Party movement and political campaigns. Readers seemed to enjoy sending me off to California, Alaska, Massachusetts, New York, Florida and other scenes of political action, and I certainly enjoyed being in the middle of that action. But my travels imposed an enormous strain on the domestic front, a burden shouldered by Mrs. Other McCain. 

More than once I explained, when I asked my wife to pack the suitcase for another campaign sojourn that hadn’t yet been wholly compensated by tip-jar donations, “Honey, this is showtime. This is what the readers are paying for. They’re not going to pay me just to sit in the basement and snark at the news.” Sometimes I made that explanation while struggling to hold back tears. No kidding.

So now it’s “Make My Wife Happy” Week, and I thank those tip-jar hitters who have, so far, prevented my darling bride from stabbing me to death in my sleep.

But the rest of you guys need to hit the freaking tip jar. Because she’s still got a kitchen drawer full of knives . . .


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