The road this week to Charlotte, N.C., was paved with misconceptions. At the Democratic National Convention, mine included expectations for a cab on a rainy opening day, as I spent an hour outside my motel with a trio of button salesmen down from New York, waiting and waiting.
It was my ninth national political convention, so I should have known better. Even in a huge city like New York, a political gathering like this can turn life upside down. In Charlotte, the small but vibrant “jewel of the South,” demand for rides to the convention far outstretched capacity. So the button men and I bused it.
Another misconception came in the form of commentary leading up to the DNC, with predictions of malaise and disappointment, since it could never hope to match the mania of Barack Obama’s historic 2008 White House run. It was another misconception shattered, as any delegate could have told you.