The Geoff Duncan Lane That’s There Whether People Admit It or Not

Every election cycle, Georgia Democrats find a new way to underestimate their own voters. And right now, the latest example is the knee‑jerk reaction some rank‑and‑file Democrats and party activists have toward the idea of Geoff Duncan becoming the nominee. You’d think the sky was falling the way some folks talk.

But here’s the part nobody wants to say out loud:  

It’s crazy to act like he can’t win the nomination.

Not because of polls. Not because of headlines.  

But because there’s a quiet lane of voters out there that nobody is accounting for and they’re not talking, posting, or raising their hands in public.

They’re watching.

They’re listening.

And they’re not interested in getting dragged by their friends, their group chats, or their county party Facebook warriors for saying Duncan’s name out loud.

That’s the part the activists keep missing.

Georgia has always had a “hidden vote” people who don’t show their cards until the last minute. People who don’t want the noise. People who don’t want the backlash. People who don’t want to argue with folks who think they speak for the entire party.

And this year, that quiet lane is bigger than folks want to admit.

Especially among Black men.

Not the loud ones. Not the ones who live on Twitter.  On Facebook. On any social media site. 

I’m talking about the men who work, raise families, mind their business, and vote their own mind, not the party line someone tries to hand them.

These voters don’t show up in early polling.  

They don’t show up in activist circles.  

They don’t show up in the “who’s trending” conversations.

But they show up on Election Day.

So when people dismiss Duncan like he’s a non‑factor, that’s not analysis, that’s wishful thinking. It’s easier to pretend the race is already decided than to acknowledge that Georgia voters don’t move the way party insiders think they do.

The truth is simple:  

There’s more happening under the surface than folks want to admit.

And ignoring that hidden vote has burned Democrats before.

It might burn them again.

Cut the Delusion — McCord’s the Only Shot Democrats Have in CD1

Every now and then a primary comes along where the choice isn’t complicated. Georgia’s 1st Congressional District is one of the toughest battlegrounds in the state, and if Democrats are serious about making CD‑1 competitive in November, then the nominee has to be someone who’s already proven they can do more than talk about winning, they have to show they can build a path to it.

From my vantage point, Michael McCord is the one Democrat in this race who’s actually done that work.

He’s gone into the parts of this district most candidates avoid, the rural pockets, the small towns, the places where Democrats haven’t always been welcomed with open arms and he’s earned respect there. Not because he’s flashy or overly polished, but because he shows up, listens, and speaks plain. That matters in a district like this.

He’s also put forward real, comprehensive proposals that speak to kitchen‑table issues,

the things families in this district actually argue about, budget around, and lose sleep over. That’s not theory. That’s preparation.

And then there’s the part folks don’t talk about enough: his ability to connect with rural voters. Not perform for them. Not pander to them. Connect with them. That’s rare, and it’s the difference between a campaign that looks good on paper and one that can actually compete in November.

McCord didn’t come up through the political system. He’s not a manufactured candidate. He’s not the product of a pipeline. He’s a true outsider — and in a district that’s tired of the same old political routine, that’s exactly the kind of candidate who can break through.

There’s no one else in this primary I see who’s as ready, as tested, or as capable of making GA‑01 competitive as Michael McCord. That’s just the truth from where I sit.

The Labor Race’s Quietest Threat

Every statewide cycle in Georgia produces at least one candidate who doesn’t fit neatly into the usual boxes, someone who isn’t the loudest, isn’t the flashiest, but has a way of moving through rooms and connecting with people that the political class tends to underestimate. In this year’s Democratic primary for Labor Commissioner, that person is Jason Moon.

Moon enters the race with a resume that stands out on paper and carries weight in conversation. As a U.S. Small Business Administrator, he’s spent years working at the intersection of workforce development, entrepreneurship, and economic mobility. And as a cousin of the late U.S. Senator Max Cleland, he carries a family legacy that still resonates deeply with many Georgia Democrats  especially older voters who remember Cleland’s service, sacrifice, and moral clarity.

But pedigree alone isn’t what makes Moon a wildcard.  

It’s his range.

A Candidate Who Moves Comfortably Between Worlds

Most candidates can speak fluently to one audience. A few can manage two. Moon is one of the rare ones who can walk into almost any setting and sound like he belongs there.

He can talk to factory‑floor workers without sounding like he memorized a script. He can sit across from corporate executives and hold his own on workforce pipelines, regulatory issues, and job‑creation strategies. He can speak directly to male voters who are looking for stable work that pays a real wage, not promises, not slogans, but actual pathways to employment.

And he can connect with single mothers who are trying to find a job that pays enough to keep the lights on, cover childcare, and still leave room to breathe. That’s not a demographic every candidate knows how to speak to, but Moon has shown an ability to meet people where they are and talk about work in a way that feels real.

A Rural Connection That Matters

In rural Georgia, the Department of Labor isn’t an abstract agency, it’s a lifeline. It touches agriculture, food processing, logistics, manufacturing, and the seasonal labor cycles that keep entire counties afloat. Many candidates talk about rural Georgia; fewer understand how labor policy actually lands on the ground.

Moon has the ability to explain that connection clearly. He can talk about agricultural jobs, workforce shortages, training programs, and the role the Department of Labor plays in stabilizing rural economies. That matters in places where voters aren’t looking for ideological purity, they’re looking for someone who understands the work they do and the challenges they face.

A Field of Five, But One Question Looms

The Democratic field for Labor Commissioner is made up of five good people, each bringing something different to the table. But like every statewide race, the conversation eventually comes back to the same question:

Who is most likely to match up well in a general election?

That’s where Moon becomes the wildcard. Not because he’s the loudest or the most polished, but because he has a rare ability to speak across lines class lines, geographic lines, gender lines, and political lines. In a state as diverse and competitive as Georgia, that kind of range is not something you can manufacture.

From my perspective, that’s what makes Jason Moon a serious contender in this race. Not inevitability. Not hype. Just the simple fact that he can walk into almost any room in this state and talk to people in a way that feels grounded, respectful, and real.

And in a Labor Commissioner race, a job that touches every worker, every employer, and every corner of Georgia that kind of connection matters.

(Ret.) Colonel Pamela Delancy Might Be This Year's Georgia Sleeper Congressional Candidate in GA‑10

Pamela Delancy is a name most Democrats in Georgia’s 10th Congressional District have never heard and that’s exactly why her candidacy deserves a closer look. In a field where name recognition and political networks usually dominate the conversation, Delancy brings something different to the table: a compelling personal story and a profile that checks every “candidate quality” box strategists talk about but rarely find in one person.

She’s a cancer survivor.

She’s a military veteran.

She has an independent streak that doesn’t feel manufactured.

Those aren’t talking points they’re lived experiences that resonate in a district where authenticity still matters. GA‑10 is a place where Democrats really don't put up much of a fight. Last Democrat to hold that seat was Don Johnson back in 1992. Voters respond to grit, resilience, and real‑world credibility. Delancy’s background gives her all three.

She may not be a known quantity in Democratic circles, but that’s not necessarily a weakness. Sometimes the most interesting candidates are the ones who haven’t been shaped by party machinery or political expectations. Delancy’s profile suggests she could connect with voters who are tired of the same old political molds and are looking for someone who’s actually lived the challenges they talk about.

In a district as sprawling and politically complex as GA‑10, candidate quality still counts. And Pamela Delancy military service, personal resilience, and an independent voice is the kind of foundation that can make an unknown candidate suddenly worth watching.

Finally, a Rural Democrat on a Presidential Ticket for the first time in nearly 50 years.

Kamala Harris and the Democrats did well to have Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz on their national ticket as the vice-presidential nominee. He’s rural, for real. Walz has a broad appeal in the Upper Midwest battleground states, I expect that to trickle down to states like Georgia, Virginia and North Carolina and he is well-versed in the you-betcha vernacular. The blue brand can barely be peddled along the blacktops anymore, but somehow Walz figured out a way to win a congressional seat in a red district and ultimately the governorship.

Republicans will have a hard time defining the 24 Year Army National Guard Veteran as an out-of-control elite liberal. He is an expert marksman, claims he is a better pheasant shooter than his counterpart JD Vance, and suggests that vegetarians should eat turkey since it is not really meat. He hails from West Point, Nebraska and once got pulled over for drunk driving as a young schoolteacher and coach. (He pleaded down to reckless driving and gave up on drinking under his wife’s advice.)

Walz subscribes to the standard Democratic orthodoxy...... pro-choice, supports gay rights, believes in feeding children at school, champions a living wage and backs labor unions. He is no more liberal than the late Hubert Humphrey or Walter Mondale. Walz favors some gun controls, as Ronald Reagan did. He is, in fact, pretty much your White Midwestern dad dude who coached Mankato West High School to a state football title.

As governor, he made way for pipelines supported by union pipefitting members. 

He might even be able to get rural areas to sit up from its one-party stupor and listen. Walz’s politics of joy contrasts with his counterpart JD Vance politics of exclusion, snark and denial.

Trump has no clue what life is like in places like Swainsboro, Ga or Alamo, Ga or any small town in rural America. Unfortunately, his brand of politics of negativity, doom and gloom appeals to some voters in rural America. JD Vance got out of rural America at the first opportunity and only looked back to condemn his country cousins in a memoir. Rural America is more than resentful people in red caps. It’s Barnesville, Sandersville, Fort Gaines, Statenville, Nahunta, Irwinton,  and first-generation college students at Georgia Southwestern State University or Savannah State University.

Walz gets it. That could be a powerful antidote to the decline of political choice out here in the Lowcountry or Wiregrass regions of rural Georgia and throughout rural America. Rural communities struggling to survive needs an alternative, other than simply more tax cuts, bad roads and more grievance. Walz should use his voice while he can, because Humphrey or Mondale could have told him that nobody listens to the vice president much after November.

The Harris campaign will task Walz with campaigning in the Rustbelt States and Georgia, North Carolina, and maybe even Florida. Simply having a candidate on the national ticket who actually baled hay since (Jimmy Carter) under the Nebraska sun should buck us up.