Eddie Martinez can't stand Donald Trump. So when Eric Swalwell entered the race for California governor, Martinez had his candidate.

"I liked the way he took Trump on, the impeachment thing in Congress," Martinez said of the former Bay Area congressman, a Trump nemesis who served as one of the House prosecutors in 2021 when Democrats held the wayward president to account for the second time.

Then, suddenly, Swalwell's campaign collapsed under the weight of allegations of abuse, including charges he sexually assaulted a former aide. With Martinez's choice out of the running, the Democrat turned to the candidate who'd been his second pick all along, Xavier Becerra.

Martinez has been familiar with Becerra for decades, going back to when the former congressman, state attorney general and Biden Cabinet member was in the state Assembly. To his credit, said the 65-year-old retired public relations strategist, Becerra has largely kept clear of controversy and there's never been a whiff of personal scandal — an important consideration after Swalwell's spectacular self-destruction.

On top of all that, Martinez said as he prepared to drop his mail ballot at a post office in Alhambra, it would be nice for California to elect its first Latino governor in modern times. It's been, Martinez observed, more than 150 years.

With the gubernatorial primary entering its final two weeks, a contest that had been stubbornly formless has finally gained coherence. Becerra, who'd been widely given up for dead as he foundered near the bottom of polls, has unexpectedly emerged as the Democrat to beat.

"He has the most experience," said Ruben Avita, a 57-year-old actor who leans Democratic and is tilting toward Becerra over hedge-fund billionaire Tom Steyer. "At this point," Avita said as he waited to catch a double feature at a cineplex in Monterey Park, "I want someone with a proven track record."

Among the Republicans running, Trump's pick — conservative commentator Steve Hilton — seems firmly ensconced atop the GOP field.

"He's got a lot more common-sense approach than any of these other idiots," said Wayne The Flame — yes, he explained, that's his legal name —which, while not exactly a ringing endorsement, still counts as a vote.

The Claremont independent, retired at 73 after a career selling motorcycles and hot rods, described Riverside County Sheriff Chad Bianco, the other major GOP contestant, as a racist and dismissed the entire Democratic field with a string of epithets. "Dumb—," he said of the voters who keep putting the likes of them in power.

If not terribly enthused, at least The Flame has made up his mind. Many voters remain undecided — or, at least, not entirely wed to a candidate.

Some are holding on to their ballots longer than usual, awaiting any last-minute developments and weighing the election odds as though wagering in a high-stakes game of poker.

Like many Democrats, Bryce Dwyer's concern is that Hilton and Bianco will seize both spots in June's top-two primary, advancing to a November runoff and giving California its first Republican governor in 16 years.

A 40-year-old project manager at the Getty Research Institute, Dwyer held his 2-year-old daughter as his son, 6, romped on a pleasant afternoon in Sierra Madre's Memorial Park. Across the street, the bells of Christ Church chimed the hour.

"None of the Democrats are putting forth anything that is making me excited," said Dwyer, who's ruled out Becerra (he doesn't see much there) and is deciding between Steyer and former Orange County Rep. Katie Porter. He's trying to cast his ballot strategically, the East Pasadena resident said, and "it's the first time in a while I haven't really had a clue who I'm going to vote for so close to election day."

This is a deeply unsettled season in California, with precious little hope the next governor — whoever he or she turns out to be — will make things better anytime soon. That mix of discouragement and discontent surfaced repeatedly, like a dull ache, in conversations with dozens of voters across the San Gabriel Valley.

The region's ethnic and economic diversity — from the working-class neighborhoods of Pomona through the Asian-majority suburbs to the mountainside mansions of San Dimas and Pasadena — make the valley a prime battleground in the race for governor.

Alana H., who asked not to use her last name, said she wasn't even bothering to vote.

She ticked off some reasons: The soaring price of gas and rising cost of, essentially, everything else. The fear her college-age daughter will never be able to buy a home in California. Worse, is her loss of faith. She no longer believes in the promise, once taken for granted, that each generation will improve its lot over the last. And, Alana said, she's not alone: "Anyone who's an average person is in the same boat, we're all just trying to stay afloat." Standing in front of the post office in Alhambra, the 52-year-old paddled her arms as though to keep from sinking.

The politicians in both parties are "so out of touch," she said, "all they're doing is fighting over this and that, when everyone I know doesn't care what party you're in. They just want to put food on their table. They want their kids to have a better life."

Shelby Moore has some of the same concerns. Forget about ever buying a home, said the 30-year-old California native, a Democratic-leaning independent. It's no small feat scraping up money for rent. "I've lost almost every single friend that I went to high school or college with," Moore said between waiting tables at a Mediterranean restaurant in Glendora. "They've all moved out of state."

She'll definitely vote, Moore said, though she doesn't know for whom. One of the Democrats. Someone who'll work to make California more affordable and keep people like her friends from being priced out.

In Claremont, Eric Hurley was another undecided Democrat. He attended last month's gubernatorial debate at Pomona College, where the 56-year-old professor teaches psychological science and Africana studies. Otherwise, he's been too busy to pay much attention to the race.

But it's important, Hurley said, that whoever wins "keep fighting the good fight and standing by our liberal principles. I would hate to see someone in the governor's office start capitulating to what the current administration is asking."

Others seconded that notion, that California needs to stand as a bulwark against Trump and his excesses, such as the draconian crackdown that has terrorized the state's large immigrant population.

But there's not a great appetite for the sort of performative pushback that's won the current governor a wide audience on social media and boosted Gavin Newsom's political stock as he positions himself ahead of the 2028 presidential campaign.

Jennifer Harris, 56, is a single mom in Monrovia who oversees payroll at a food manufacturing company. She has to stretch each of her dollars to make ends meet; soon she'll be shelling out $30,000 a year for her daughter to go to college. Buying a home, Harris said, is out of the question.

She confessed to chuckling at the governor's memes — an over-the-top oeuvre that includes Newsom as super hero, Newsom as religious beacon, Newsom as romance-novel hunk — and his other cheeky jabs at the president. "But that's not an adult way to handle it," Harris said between errands in Monrovia's quaint shopping district. "It's not solving any problems."

Better, she said, for the next governor — she hasn't decided whom she'll support — to focus on practicalities: improving the economy, making housing and healthcare more affordable, dealing with homelessness and the underlying mental health issues.

Britnee Foreman echoed that sentiment.

The 41-year-old, who lives in Azusa and works in the music business, was meeting a friend, Priscilla Vega, 43, for lunch in Monrovia. Along with a meal, the two Democrats shared their concerns about inflation and income inequality.

"Memes are great for publicity," said Foreman, who's deciding between Becerra and Porter, based on their policy experience. (Vega, a lifestyle marketer, has yet to narrow down her choice.)

"But I prefer policy," Foreman went on. "I don't want them just to be the popular person out there on social media. It's great if they're tweeting and have a cute little Insta-story. But I need their policies to have teeth and actively move us forward. And not just look like it's moving forward."

After nearly eight years, amid widespread unease, California seems ready to put the Newsom era in the past. It's just not clear what path voters will choose, or which candidate they'll prefer to steer the state toward, hopefully, a better place.

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