Off-Key With The McCain Campaign

I recently bought a new stereo. I had my iPod plugged into the new system and I was using an ’80s playlist to test out the sound. While I was busy plugging speaker wire together and arranging complicated component settings, I became further confused with a question I’ve pondered for years: Do dogs have rhythm? My German shepherd pound pup, I noticed, would wag her tail to some songs and crawl behind furniture to hide from others. But was she responding to the beat or is she functionally literate and aware that Madonna, steps from the grave, has lost her style?

Perhaps my dog has rhythm. But I’m pretty sure the Republican Party does not.

We all know that presidential campaigns are known for tying their message to popular songs, such as Fleetwood Mac’s “Don’t Stop,” which Bill Clinton used in 1992.

And in his recent campaigning, John McCain rallied his base with the fresh face of Sarah Palin, a woman who brings a new perspective to the Republican camp. With the introduction of the Alaska governor, whose nickname is “Barracuda,” the campaign played the Heart song by the same name.

Let’s just say the original artist didn’t send their “heartfelt” appreciation to the campaign.

After the song was played at the Republican National Convention, Heart requested that the McCain campaign stop using it. But as recently as Sept. 9, at a rally in Lebanon, Ohio, the 1977 hit played to the throngs of McCain and Palin supporters.

While the McCain campaign did pay the American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers the requisite fee to play the song at the venue, they obviously ignored Heart’s request to fast-forward. Even so, the author of the song, Roger Fisher says he’ll accept the royalties and then send them along to the (gasp!) Obama campaign.

McCain’s campaign is quickly running out of songs on their playlist.

After all, “Barracuda” is only one of many songs the campaign has been asked to silence. John Mellencamp asked that McCain stop using his “Our Country” way back in February. Also, a publicist for Van Halen said that McCain’s use of the band’s hit “Right Now” was never requested and would not have been granted. But without question, Jackson Browne is the maddest musician of them all.

Browne sued the campaign and the Ohio GOP for using his song “Running on Empty” in an ad attacking Barack Obama.

Despite its message of “change,” it seems to me that the McCain campaign is sticking closely to the Bush administration’s operating principle of “shoot now, ask questions later” (or maybe “shoot your friend in the face quail hunting and blame your vision later”).

As menial as not asking for artist permissions to use music may be, it is an illustration of the bigger picture – McCain thinks he’s walking into an office that doesn’t require asking permission for very much, thanks to his fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants predecessor.

As much as I want to see change in the wind for the Republican Party, McCain is sticking with Bush II-era Republican politics.

The Obama campaign continually mentions that McCain votes with George W. Bush 90 percent of the time. That is a damning statement in a country that approves of Dubya less than any other U.S. president during modern polling, according to a May CNN/Opinion Research Corp. poll.

While I have no doubt that McCain has a leather armchair waiting for him at the proverbial old boys’ club in Crawford, I question Palin and her intentions.

Do curves and lipstick hide a lust for an uneven share of White House-based power? And what does it mean when a mother of five shoots a wolf from inside a hovering helicopter? Maybe we should stick with vice presidents who don’t have guns. They make me nervous.

Either way, I can’t help hearing the rhythm of the times and the opinions of John Mellencamp, Jackson Browne, Van Halen, and Heart, who represent the music of an apple-pie middle class. McCain would do well not to piss them off.

Plus, I heard from Billy Joel that John Mellencamp will slash your tires if he can get into the garage of one of your seven–or eight–houses.

T. Later is a beltway insider in the Washington, D.C., metro area. His days are spent as a legitimate communications professional, observing everything from photo-ready grip-and-grins to the most gossip-worthy Senatorial cage fights. The nighttime glow of his laptop, however, reveals the more tabloid-worthy of these misdeeds through scathing commentary, completely subjective analysis, and ranting vitriol. Mr. Later insists he is independent of a political party, but warns that his stance on individual issues is as black and white as newsprint. Roll presses.