Go get 'em, Charlotte.

Before I begin my next post, I wanted to take a minute to say thanks for all the accolades so many of you offered after my first real post. This whole putting my own commentary out for the world to read is a little intimidating, but it's nice to know I'm not writing in a vacuum. Thanks so much for your encouragement.

I read a great article in this weekend's Charlotte Observer about Charlotte as the "little city who could." The writer's point of view is Charlotte as a small town with big hopes and sometimes unrealistic dreams. We are a town that's one part native, one part from nearby, and a heaping serving of people from somewhere else. Name a state, country, or culture, and we have 'em here. And yet, we seem to have struck this unique identity that binds us all together. Most of us live here because we'd rather not live anywhere else.

We have NASCAR, the NFL, the NBA (even though we groan at the sound of the name), a fantastic newspaper that rivals any other in the south, bank headquarters, films and movies shot in Charlotte (with local crew), excellent cuisine, a talented symphony, top notch entertainment, parks, greenways, shopping. I could go on, and on.

But, our traffic stinks. 

And yes, I wish our public school system were better. 

But, to a fault, I'm the optimist that thinks about the potential for our mass transit development, even if I'll be retired before light rail comes to my neck of the woods. I'm also ever hopeful about Dr. Heath Morrison, who has just taken his first steps in the insurmountable position as Superintendent of Charlotte-Mecklenburg Schools, working to bridge the educational gaps in our schools and in our very diverse and evolving community.

If you live anywhere in Charlotte, the state of North Carolina, or lately anywhere other than under a rock, you've probably seen that the Democratic National Convention is being hosted by my favorite city in the south. My hometown, Charlotte. And, yes, for those of you who know where I live, I realize my home is actually in a suburb. But, just go with me, 'mkay?

And so, this town that I call my own, has been chosen to host among the most notable events a city could get. Regardless of your politics (or mine), and besides the politically charged reasons that may have tipped the nod in our favor, you have to admit that this is a big deal. Bigger than big.

And as the convention-goers begin to arrive in town, I feel somewhat like the parent who has sat for the last year watching your child rehearse her lines for the big school stage production. You've seen her study other performers, get a hair cut, iron her clothes, repair her costume, and imagine what she would do if the worst things happened. Other school functions have been moved as to not conflict with the big show, tickets have been sold, and the lunch ladies have been busy preparing for the big party at the end.

And here I sit, a proud patron, watching the lights dim, and the curtain go up. People who have never met her, could really love her.

But it could be an epic failure if things don't go well.

And, it could be so amazing if things go right.

So, here's to you Charlotte. Make us proud to call you home. I'm sure you'll do fine.

Break a leg.