The most shocking development this election year in Maine isn’t what you think it is.

Sure, the Graham Platner flameout will remain an enduring memory of the campaign, but the real surprise is something that hasn’t happened.

Among the small towns of western and northern Maine, a Republican candidate for the U.S. Congress has been quietly shaking hands, chatting with GOP groups and admiring babies.

Yes, folks, hard as it is to believe, Paul LePage has kept a low profile during his 2nd District congressional race. Nowhere have we seen any of the colossally offensive or ridiculous  comments of years past. Maine’s former governor has avoided doing anything much to embarrass himself or his state.

For the many newcomers to Maine since LePage left the governor’s office in 2018 after two terms, it’s well worth reviewing a fraction of what transpired during his tenure in the Blaine House, when he bragged — persuasively — about being “Trump before Trump.”

The toned-down LePage of today must not be allowed to paper over his pugnacious past.

During a speech at the Maine Republican convention this past April, he mentioned that he had once “said some stuff that made the left and the media lose their minds. In fact, they haven’t recovered yet. And you know, I say it like it is.”

That’s certainly one way to look at it.

As governor, LePage participated in one shocking incident after another, almost always as a consequence of his inability to keep his mouth shut. 

Among the most infamous of these took place on Aug. 25, 2016, not ancient history, when he got so mad at state Rep. Drew Gattine that he left a voicemail telling him, “Mr. Gattine, this is Gov. Paul Richard LePage. I would like to talk to you about your comments about my being a racist, you cocksucker. I’ve spent my life helping Black people and you little son-of-a-bitch, socialist cocksucker. … I want you to record this and make it public because I am after you. Thank you.”

The year prior, the governor said that Assistant Senate Majority Leader Troy Jackson, who’s now running for U.S. Senate, possessed a “black heart” and “no brains.” LePage continued: “Sen. Jackson claims to be for the people, but he’s the first one to give it to the people without providing Vaseline.”

Told that might offend Mainers, LePage doubled down. “Good,” he replied. “It ought to, because I’ve been taking it for two years.”

To be fair, LePage has been a calmer, quieter public figure since he retired to Florida after leaving the governor’s office. When he returned in 2022 to try unsuccessfully to regain the office, the “LePage 2.0” campaign sputtered — in part because he didn’t seem to have all that much to say.

LePage 3.0 might be more low-profile still.

The 77-year-old retiree, who once insisted he would make a crummy legislator, came back to Maine this election cycle to try to win a congressional seat. To pull it off, he’ll need to defeat State Auditor Matt Dunlap, a Democrat.

I’m not sure LePage has the energy for the race. I’m disappointed he seems so lackluster now.

As a reporter who relishes the give-and-take of covering politicians, I miss the days when he called journalists “terrorists with pencils” and said that “the sooner the print press goes away, the better society will be.”

Oh, well. The sooner LePage goes away, the better off Maine will be.