Conventional wisdom

For all their high profile and national importance, political conventions are undeniably hokey affairs -- and there's nothing as corny as the roll call of states.

That said, I absolutely love the roll calls.

A select few delegates, many of whom seldom (if ever) speak publicly, get to trumpet their state's endearing qualities -- from snow-capped mountains to gumbo, from native sons to sketchy claims to the same -- before announcing their delegation's votes.

It's a chance to say, "This is my home, I'm damned proud of it, and I'm gonna tell you why."

The Democrats just finished the formal nomination of Sen. Barack Obama to be the party's nominee, and they did it in unconventional fashion. The states and territories, in alphabetical order, began casting their votes. California and Illinois passed. New Hampshire and New Jersey apparently got the "unity" memo and went unanimously for Sen. Obama. New Mexico yielded back to Illinois, which yielded to New York.

Sen. Hillary Clinton then stepped to the New York delegation's microphone and entered a motion to suspend the roll call and nominate Sen. Obama by acclamation.

Looks like she got the memo, too.

The motion carried. The arena celebrated. The PUMAs sulked.

While I can't be swayed to vote for Sen. Obama come November, I also can't be ignorant of the historical significance of his nomination. As a white kid growing up in the 1960s, I saw the civil-rights movement reach its crescendo. I was a curious and politically aware sixth-grader when Dr. King was assassinated. Seated in front of my family's black-and-white Zenith, I watched television coverage of violent race riots.

I was born early enough to see "Whites Only" signs when my family vacationed in the South, and now I've lived long enough to see a black man win his party's nomination for the office of President.

That's the best kind of convention drama I can imagine.

For this nation -- and for this patriot -- it's a proud moment.