We're sitting in his Senate office. The scar from his cancer surgery that zigzags on the left side of his face and neck is healing but is still a bit jarring. His mood is weary.

So much of McCain's power -- his ability to get controversial legislation passed, the successes of his underfunded campaign for president, his strong national poll numbers -- comes from the fact that reporters were and continue to be fascinated by his every move. His shoot-from-the-hip style, combined with a restless -- sometimes reckless -- challenging of the status quo, plus a compelling bio, means that lots of us in the Fourth Estate find him fun to cover. Not to mention a good story. But that doesn't mean that McCain always enjoys it, or benefits from it.

He certainly didn't care for the frenzy that erupted over the weekend. He was irritated by what he sees as an out-of-control media reaction springing from unsubstantiated claims in the press that McCain was planning -- or even talking about -- becoming an independent and beginning to prepare for a 2004 run for the presidency. The story's just not true, he says. McCain's inner circle of advisors denies ever having rapped with the senator about jumping parties or running for president.

(Even the story that started the whole domino-tumble never shows any evidence that McCain has ever had the conversations in question.)

McCain's innocence of the charge that set a thousand pundits' mouths a-whirlin' doesn't mean, however, that the hell-raiser hasn't played a role in the creation of his own quixotic and unpredictable myth. Tuesday morning, for instance, the office of Sen. John Edwards, D-N.C., calls McCain's office. Edwards -- McCain's Democratic partner in the patients bill of rights legislation and a possible 2004 presidential prospect himself -- has an invitation for McCain to join him. On the radio. On the Democratic radio response to President Bush's Saturday message, that is.

Edwards is going to talk about their bill, and wants McCain to join him in what would be an unprecedented Republican rebuttal to a Republican presidential radio address.

Upon hearing this, McCain's closest advisors -- chief of staff Mark Salter, political director "Sunny" John Weaver -- laugh. When Salter later tells McCain about it, McCain shakes his head "no," with an almost confused expression on his face.

McCain's in a somber and reflective mood that might outweigh the gravity of what he went through. What senator -- or president -- wouldn't love to have the press speculating on what he's going to do three years down the road?

But McCain -- in his first interview after a weekend of chaotic speculation -- insists that the attention that accompanied the long-planned weekend trip of Senate Majority Leader Tom Daschle, D-S.D., and his wife, Linda, to McCain's Cottonwood, Ariz., ranch home was a pain in the ass.

"I think that the unfortunate combination of the Daschle visit and the speculation because of the [Sen. Jim] Jeffords switch all kind of became a combustible blend that in and by themselves probably wouldn't have generated so much publicity," McCain says. His statement after Jeffords' defection, a May 24 admonition for the Senate GOP leadership and its K Street allies to start showing other mavericks some respect -- "Tolerance of dissent is the hallmark of a mature party, and it is well past time for the Republican Party to grow up" -- probably helped fan the flames, too.

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