A Dime's Worth Of Difference?

There are a lot of registered Republicans who didn't vote for John McCain as their nominee. Of course, a majority of them did. And McCain is the Republican nominee for President. It's no longer a matter of preference. It's a done deal.

And some of those who profess angst about his nomination like to say that there's little difference between the AZ Senator and the two Democrats beating each other to a pulp to win their party's nomination.

I say it's time to put aside personal grudges and consider the following. This passage is from pages 254-255 of John McCain's "Faith of my Fathers". As part of his account of his time as a prisoner of war at the Hanoi Hilton, McCain describes the process of truly understanding the lessons of his father and grandfather about service to country.

During the long pause between bombing campaigns in the North, while the months and years dragged on, it was hard to take our interrogators’ ridicule of our conviction that our loyalty to America was returned, measure for measure, by our distant compatriots. But we clung to our belief, each one encouraging the other, not with overexuberant hopes that our day of liberation was close at hand, but with a steady resolve that our honor was the extension of a great nation’s honor, and that both prisoner and country would do what honor asked of us.

In prison, I fell in love with my country. I had loved her before then, but like most young people, my affection was little more than a simple appreciation for the comforts and privileges most Americans enjoyed and took for granted. It wasn’t until I had lost America for a time that I realized how much I loved her.

I loved what I missed most from my life at home: my family and friends; the sights and sounds of my country; the hustle and purposefulness of Americans; their fervid independence; sports; music; information – all the attractive qualities of American life. But though I longed for the things at home I cherished the most, I still shared the ideals of America. And since those ideals were all that I possessed of my country, they became all the more important to me.

It was what freedom conferred on America that I loved the most – the distinction of being the last, best hope of humanity; the advocate for all who believed in the Rights of Man. Freedom is America’s honor, and all honor comes with obligations. We have the obligation to use our freedom wisely, to select well from all the choices freedom offers. We can accept or reject the obligation, but if we are to preserve our freedom, our honor, we must choose well.

I was no longer the boy to whom liberty meant simply that I could do as I pleased, and who, in my vanity, used my freedom to polish my image as an I-don’t-give-a-damn nonconformist. That’s not to say that I had shed myself entirely of that attribute. I had not, and have not yet. But I no longer located my self-respect in that distinction. In prison, where my cherished independence was mocked and assaulted, I found my self-respect in a shared fidelity to my country. All honor comes with obligations. I and the men with whom I served had accepted ours, and we were grateful for the privilege.

No difference? Perhaps Sen. McCain is more like a Democrat on some specific issues, but in the recognition of what this country represents and for a true understanding of why it is so great there is no contest.