Faced with three busloads of Terry McAuliffe supporters, a hundred of whom paraded up and down the street in front of last night’s Jefferson-Jackson Dinner in Richmond, progressive gubernatorial hopeful Brian Moran let loose.

In a hard-hitting speech, Moran took repeated swipes at McAuliffe without mentioning him by name, suggesting that he was an outsider who would lead the party to defeat in November if he were the Democratic nominee.

"We must decide what our party stands for," Moran said. "Will our party be built from the bottom up or from the top down? Will our party be about public service or personal gain? Will our party be dominated by big money or those who raise it?


"We need a fighter, not a fundraiser," Moran said. "We need a governor who cares more about the family dinner table than the corporate boardroom."

The Richmond police shut down the street in front of the convention center last night for Terry’s parade, and he spent almost $100,000 for these supporters to dine.  Terry McAuliffe offered his just here to have fun! defense for his attempt to buy this year’s gubernatorial nomination:

"I think you can see we are having a lot of fun in this campaign," said McAuliffe, who also bought 39 tables at about $2,500 each for the dinner.

In a separate WaPo profile also in this morning’s paper, Brian Moran lets loose some more zingers, making clear he’s decided to get under Terry’s skin in any number of ways:

"I won’t spend time trying to find the office like certain of my opponents," Moran says.

And this: "I’m afraid I haven’t stumbled across him at the Fairfax chamber of commerce meetings."

And this: "I’d be happy to go on ‘Morning Joe’ with Terry, but I’ve been on WINA in Charlottesville twice this week."

The profile wraps with the populist, progressive tone Brian Moran has set for his campaign:

He believes his emphasis on work — he tells voters about putting himself through law school by tending bar at Ramparts in Alexandria — will set him apart from the guy who holds fundraisers on Park Avenue in Manhattan. "I’ve never even been on Park Avenue," Moran says, and then he stops. "I have to stop talking about Terry."

Maybe you should stop, Brian — but until you do, you are providing much enjoyment for those of us watching from a distance, waiting for Terry to explode.  Because, for all his jolllity and hail-fellow-well-met, I bet Terry has a thin skin about all his money, connections, and out-of-touchness that you’d better continue to hammer.

Get under Terry McAuliffe’s skin one time when a camera is on, Brian Moran, and you’ll win this nomination. 

Teddy Partridge

Teddy Partridge