I spotted Jonathan Williams, 33, a trucker from Garland, Texas, about 47 miles east of Fort Worth, at a truck stop with a massive "HOWDY!" sign out front. He was staring intently at a framed clipping from the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, where I used to be a columnist. The $2 gas price in the story had caught his eye, and he wanted to know what year gas was that cheap. (It was just 2021). Regular gas in Texas now costs $3.79 a gallon and diesel $5.78 – lower than the national averages but high for Texas – and it has irritated voters.
Those voters could help decide one of the most important races of these midterm elections: the U.S. Senate race in Texas. A Democrat hasn't won statewide office in Texas since 1994, but Democratic state Rep. James Talarico
is polling ahead of Republican state Attorney General Ken Paxton, though the race has tightened as Nov. 3 looms. More than $500 million has been spent on ads.
Williams' curiosity about gas prices hadn't carried over to politics. "I'm not too well read up on (the U.S. Senate race)," he said nonchalantly, though he was eager to chat. After I explained who was running, he said he'd definitely heard of Talarico, but Paxton only seemed vaguely familiar.
That surprised me – I've been spammed with one or two Paxton mailers a week for weeks.

I know what I think: Talarico is a progressive liberal, posing as a moderate and oozing with Barack Obama-like appeal. But Paxton isn't much better; I can't think of a worse Republican to represent Texans.
So I set out near where I live in Fort Worth, in Tarrant County, which President Donald Trump won with almost 52% of the vote in 2024, to talk to everyday Texans from all walks of life to see what they think of the midterms, who they're voting for and why.
Texans plan to vote, but few I spoke with know who's running

When I moved to Fort Worth from just outside Washington, DC, eight years ago, I was struck by how de-centered politics are here, at least compared with the nation's capital. My reporting bore that out. Several people I spoke with, including two truckers and two young women, said they planned to vote but weren't familiar with the candidates.
Alberto Robles, 64, a trucker in a cowboy hat waiting on a breakfast taco at the same truck stop, said he's a lifelong Republican and will vote for all Republicans this year – he just didn't know who was on the ballot.
"I haven't checked," he said. Robles votes "every time there is an election," but he left, taco in hand, before we could talk much more.
Kalena Raise, 18, and Taylor Allen, 29, had just finished lunch at Chipotle when I asked if they planned to vote.
"I'm going to vote," Raise said confidently. "But I'm not sure yet who I'm going to vote for." She didn't know who the Republican candidate for U.S. Senate was, but the Democrat came right to mind: "I think one candidate is Talar-ico?” she asked.
Allen said she still needed to register (the deadline has passed), but she felt it was "important" to vote because "even though it's a midterm, the people in office affect our everyday lives and what things cost."
Despite the Texas Senate race being in the national spotlight, only about 23.5% of registered voters cast a ballot in the state's primary elections in March, but still more than 16% in 2022.
Talarico is courting Christian voters

When I asked Williams whether he was a Republican or a Democrat, he said, "I'm a Christian. So I don't really do either one." He asked if I was a Christian, then added, "I'm nondenominational. I vote (based) on that. I don't necessarily believe that either party is gonna be fully aligned with my Christian values."
He didn't seem set on voting for Talarico (yet), but he's exactly the kind of voter Talarico is courting. It's a smart strategy for a Democrat running statewide in a red state, where 67% of adults identify as Christian, according to the Pew Research Center.
Talarico's "Clear Eyes Full Hearts" campaign tour is hitting about 20 Texas cities before Nov. 3. A recent feature in The Week credits Trump's questionable morality with the rise of the "Christian left" and calls Talarico the "movement's most prominent spokesman."
I find Talarico's Christianity off-putting. At the Oct. 14 CNN town hall, he claimed "the Bible is silent on the issue of abortion," among other statements I'd call blasphemous.
But many progressive Christians see their own ideas in the social justice-oriented faith that drives his policy positions – support for abortion rights, immigration amnesty and, until recently, transgender athletes in women's sports.
None of the voters I spoke with said they were firmly behind Talarico. That's not surprising in a part of the state that leans Republican. But his lead in the polls suggests his pitch is resonating somewhere.
Paxton has countered with endorsements from 27 faith leaders. That's not many in a state with roughly 30,000 faith communities on the tail end of the Bible Belt. Then again, it's hardly surprising: A Texas Pulse poll found that 55% of likely voters believe Paxton is corrupt.
Some Texas Republicans are looking past Paxton's baggage

Chelsea Palmer, 44, a working mom who homeschools her three kids, is well aware of Paxton's baggage.
"(My dad) was like, this guy cheated on his wife," she said. But Palmer still plans to "vote straight Republican." "For this specific election, I feel like it's more about policies than maybe the person," she told me.
Paxton was indicted on state securities fraud charges, which were dropped in 2024, and impeached by the Texas House before the Texas Senate acquitted him. In 2025, his wife of 38 years, state Sen. Angela Paxton, filed for divorce on "biblical grounds," an apparent reference to infidelity.
Yet in a new ad, she urged Texans to vote for "the whole team" – without mentioning her estranged husband by name.
Palmer doesn't always vote a straight Republican ticket in midterms. "I like to base it on who I like, but I feel like this one's pretty important," she said. "I'd like to keep (my) money." She's voting for Gov. Greg Abbott and Paxton because she's "more worried about the future of where my kids are going" than about Paxton's reputation.
Not everyone I spoke with shared Palmer's confidence. Mike Sturgill, 44, an attorney, is undecided – not because he's uninformed, but because he's so informed.
"On paper, Republicans tend to align with my viewpoints and how I think the government should run things. ... That being said, I have serious hesitations with Ken Paxton," he texted. "I don't think he has any moral compass and can be (and likely has been) bought."
Sturgill voted for Trump, but doesn't think he's a good person. That doesn't mean he'll vote for Talarico.
"James Talarico has some extreme ideas that scare me and that I don't support," he said. "I think that right now he is desperately trying to appear moderate to win over voters, but I don't think he means anything he is saying." Sturgill has a "real dilemma." He may end up reluctantly voting for Paxton, or he could write in someone else.
Juan Lumberara, a 36-year-old design supervisor, was happy to talk politics, but he doesn't plan to vote and was by far the most cynical person I met.
"You pick your poison, the person who is less of a liar, between the two," Lumberara said of this year's candidates. He doesn't consider himself a Republican or a Democrat, and he hasn't always sat out.
He voted for Obama, then for Trump in 2016, but he has grown increasingly skeptical. "I've seen families, friends, couples, you know, break apart, you know, due to politics," he said. When Lumberara voted for Trump, he believed "the stuff he was saying he would do for the American people," but "it didn't happen." The past few years made him distrust politicians' promises, and now he sees voting as a gamble on "who's gonna lie less."
Lumberara's view is cynical, but it reflects a frustration many Texans share. In a state where Christianity is central to so many voters' identities, Talarico's faith-based appeal could complicate the race for Republicans, while Paxton's baggage gives conservatives plenty of reason to hesitate. For many Texans, this election may come down less to who inspires them than to whom they distrust a little less.
Nicole Russell is an opinion columnist with USA TODAY. She lives in Texas with her four kids. Sign up for her newsletter, The Right Track, and get it delivered to your inbox.
This article originally appeared on USA TODAY: 'Pick your poison': Texans aren't sold on Talarico or Paxton | Opinion













