It was a marketing stunt befitting a fellow who cradled a shotgun on TV to get himself elected governor.
Gov. Brian Kemp is in the enviable position of appointing a U.S. senator because Johnny Isakson will soon retire with a year left in his term. And Kemp is squeezing every drop of drama out of this that he can.
Usually, a governor will convene a panel to help vet the ambitious, connected and accomplished hopefuls. You know, the Usual Suspects.
Instead, Georgia's governor issued a clarion call for all who are interested (preferably fellow Republicans) to step up and say they want to be in the running to replace the well-liked Isakson. Since September, more than 500 people have applied to a government website that's a mixture of Star Search and CareerBuilder.com. The applicants sent in their résumés and then clicked a box saying they are not a robot because — at least for now — Governor Shotgun believes Georgia should be represented by a sentient being.
The unusual political cattle call has built a modicum of suspense. During this time, Greg Bluestein, the AJC's overworked political reporter, has frantically typed up perhaps 500 stories about who's in and who's not, a process that has kept the names of several Republicans in the news.
Governors live for moments like these. The ability to dish out a prime job just doesn’t get any bigger than this.
A decade ago, Illinois' then-Gov. Rod Blagojevich summed up the moment when he had to fill the seat of an outgoing U.S. senator named Barak Obama: "I've got this thing and it's (expletive) golden. I'm not just giving it up for (expletive) nothing."
Unfortunately for (expletive) Blaggo, the (expletive) feds were secretly listening in. He’s expected to be a free man in 2024.
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Now, I’m not saying our governor is in any way like the Illinois pol, and Kemp certainly employs a better barber. But our governor will expect a base level of loyalty from the lucky sweepstakes winner.
The governor’s pick will get a head start on the field in next year’s election, giving that person a chance to rake in some serious campaign bucks as Mister or Madame (interim) Senator.
Now, it’s almost certain that Kemp and other GOP honchos had a few names in mind for the list, such as U.S. Rep. Doug Collins, ex-U.S. Rep. Jack Kingston, former Health Secretary Tom Price, and House Speaker Pro Tem Jan Jones, the No. 2 Republican in the Georgia House. Or maybe some others might get a look, especially folks who can raise money and withstand the brutal campaign that will occur next year.
The appointee will “have to raise millions and will be involved in one of the most scrutinized races in the country,” said Brian Robinson, a Republican operative who was a key aide to former Gov. Nathan Deal. “It takes someone with a special skill set. It’s not something you can walk off the street with.”
He figures there are fewer than 10 people who meet the above criteria. Kelly Loeffler, a co-owner of Atlanta’s WNBA team, dropped her name in before Monday’s deadline. She can spend lots of money, call herself “an outsider” and appeal to suburban women. A triple threat.
Still, a lot of interesting people have stepped forward. The applicants include more than one cop and a woman in prison on murder charges. She doesn't get out until at least 2022. Also in the mix: regular citizens who perhaps have seen the movie "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington," as well as those for whom it was like buying a lottery ticket.
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There’s Jordan Michael Vickery, a 37-year-old former Marine and three-time Iraq War veteran who figured “not many people” like him were applying. So he did.
Vickery, a thoughtful, heavily bearded man who struggles with PTSD and aims to finish his college degree, titled his résumé “The Long Shot.” He writes, “Glory fades, love for war is fleeting and when left to your own devices it becomes a test of personal will power to turn out as anything resembling something your parents can be proud of.”
“If you are in society, you need to do your part, whether it’s slinging soup at a shelter or in Washington,” Vickery told me. “But it doesn’t seem so open and honest today.”
Vickery knows the looooong odds of anyone like him even remotely getting a second look. “I’m not a lunatic. But if they don’t have regular, everyday Georgians (in the discussion), it’ll be the same.”
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Daniel L. Ray is a 45-year-old minister who is also the headmaster of a small, religious-themed school near Chattanooga, Tennessee. He taught history and government before heading to school administration. “I put out fires each day,” said Ray of a skill much needed in D.C.
Ray is a conservative but thinks “common courtesy” is missing in politics on both sides. “It sounds like people are hollering at each other, not talking to each other,” he said, sounding a theme offered by more than one applicant.
Norm Cooper, publisher of the Union County Magazine, sees his application as just having a little fun. “I can say, ‘Guess what? I’m one of the 700 who were considered.’”
He posted a photo of himself online with a George Washington wig superimposed on his noggin.
Cooper, 65, a one-man band in his business, was out delivering his magazines when I called. Like Ray, he’s conservative but he wants someone “with common sense who is willing to work with people from the other side.”
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Darryl O. Wilson, a former Navy pilot and Gulf War veteran, is a bit of an outlier. He’s been a leader in the NAACP and in GOP politics. In 2006, he ran unsuccessfully in Cobb County for the state Legislature — as a Democrat. He said when he was campaigning, people enthusiastically agreed with him until they found out he was running as a Dem.
“I found out going door-to-door I was really a Republican,” he said.
Wilson said Kemp’s application process “certainly opened it up to those who aren’t insiders. Now you get to look at those who are interested. People are putting their names out there.”
In all, the Senate Sweepstakes provided a good diversion. It provided the optics that regular folks, ordinary citizens with good ideas, will step forward and get a hearing. Most likely, there are perhaps a dozen with a real shot — and that’s always been the case.
As with pro wrestling, we know the outcome but still like watching it.
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