In France three years ago, when she was told that she was too old to rent a car, she simply bought one to drive around the countryside.
John McCain tells that story often on the campaign trail, a gleam of pride in his eyes. He also likes to regale reporters on the subject of his mother's numerous speeding tickets -- one in Arizona some time back reportedly for clocking 112.
Hoping I could add a gem to this collection of tales, I did not accept rejection easily. The senator's campaign staffers told me a few times that they would get back to me about an interview. But responses were slow or vague. ("She's not doing a lot of print stuff now," I heard on one occasion, followed by: "Maybe later in the summer.")
Early in April, I went straight to the source.
Mrs. McCain picked up the phone on the first ring. Once I told her what I was after, she hesitated. "Well, hon, they never said so, but I just don't think they're crazy about me talking to anybody," she said.
I told her that I remembered meeting her and Rowena as they swept through New York for the 2004 Republican National Convention.
"Oh, gosh, wasn't that a lot of fun? I loved it," she sighed. I reminded her that the Republicans would convene in the Twin Cities this year. She laughed: "Well, maybe you and I ought to just stay home."
"Here I am talking again," she stopped herself. "I'm just not going to talk. I'm not going to get into trouble."
But I could tell that she was rolling, just like her "Johnny." I mentioned that some thought her son, at 71, was too old to be president.
"I don't think that has anything to do with it," Mrs. McCain responded firmly. "My father was taking care of his business in his 90s and walking five miles a day until the day he died.
"I don't think there is any question that he has the experience and the wisdom and the accomplishments. That's something. I don't think the others can compare, do you?"
I told Mrs. McCain that I still hoped I could come visit her sometime. It was spring, so I asked about Washington's storied cherry trees.
"Oh my, it just couldn't get any more beautiful than it is right now," she said. "Everything is in bloom. It's just fabulous." But she had a tax return to complete. Time to go. "All right, hon," she signed off. "If I don't see you back here, well, have a good time."
So it went. I called Mrs. McCain every few weeks. Normal channels weren't producing an interview. And she didn't seem to mind.
