One of those two candidates is state Rep Eugene DePasquale, safely ensconced in the 95th district -- county Democrats' sole remaining stronghold. York Republican Lon Emenheiser will challenge him come November. Unless DePasquale makes a miscalculation along the lines of getting a pentagram tattooed on his forehead, Emenheiser has an extremely steep uphill fight on his hands.

The other is Phil Avillo, a York College history professor who is once again taking on U.S. Rep. Todd Platts, R-York County, for Congress. He tried that once before in 2006.

Now, Avillo was and is a good candidate. He's intelligent, articulate and likeable. And the fact that he lost a leg in Vietnam certainly doesn't hurt his credibility.

But Platts is a well-known, popular and experienced incumbent in a district where Republicans have a substantial registration advantage. And it showed in the 2006 results, when Platts trounced Avillo by a margin of 122,463 to 65,512.

Hey, anything can happen between now and November. Still, Avillo's decision to come back for a rematch in light of those numbers is an act of dedication tantamount to political heroism.

Regardless of the ultimate results, Avillo's campaign will likely help the local Democrats. The ability to put up candidates, especially in a high profile race like a congressional seat, is an indicator of an organization's vitality. If nothing else, Avillo's presence will say, "Hey, we're here. We're alive. If you want to register with us, go right ahead."

Johnson told me that any candidates this year, win or lose, could help Democratic candidates in the future.

Yes, it was good for the party that they had as many candidates as they did in 2006. Some were more viable than others. But with the exception of DePasquale, they all seemed overmatched from the beginning -- in voter registration if nothing else.

The truth is, incumbents are hard to beat. Their very incumbency gives them more name recognition.

And let's face it. A lot of people don't give much thought to who's representing them in the state House of Representatives, or even Congress, unless that person does something to really tick off the electorate. (Cough! Cough! Pay raise! Cough!)

Peck Foster, chairman of the county Republican Party, speculated that most of the 2006 Democratic candidates didn't want to run again because of the sound beating they took last time. He's probably right.

I've never run for office myself. A newspaper job makes it difficult, without even taking into account my shady background and utter lack of charisma.

But years ago, I had a girlfriend who ran for city council in New Jersey. And I had an uncle who ran for mayor in New York. Both their attempts were unsuccessful.

Campaigning is exhausting. It's like another full-time job. And if you lose big? Ouch! Not only do you feel like all that work was in vain, but you've basically suffered a quantifiable rejection by hundreds or thousands of people on your home turf. Take every high school social rejection anxiety, magnify it a hundredfold, and you get some idea.

Yet some candidates willingly subject themselves to that, in order to support a message they believe in or because they believe that people living in a representative democracy should have a choice.

In a previous blog entry, I confessed a soft spot for underdog campaigns. See why?