When questioned about his name preference, Franco Dok Harris notes that he wanted to avoid the "Franco Jr." label. He kicks up the pitch of his voice, in imitation of what are no doubt scores of adoring old ladies, and says, "You're a big boy! You'll play offensive line!"

Mr. Harris goes by Dok, a shortening of his middle name and his mother's maiden name, Dokmanovich. His father is Steelers great Franco Harris.

But playing offensive line was not in Mr. Harris' plans. His mother deemed football too dangerous, so he took up tennis instead, even though he strongly resembles his father and is built more like a linebacker than a tennis player.

He grew up on the North Side and attended Sewickley Academy before attending Princeton University for his undergraduate education. He got a degree in politics and then worked in Washington, D.C., in consumer banking. He returned to Pittsburgh in 2004 and got a J.D./M.B.A. from the University of Pittsburgh and Carnegie Mellon University.

He presently works in consulting and product development for his family's business, Super Bakery Inc., a company that makes fortified baked goods. ("I invent new doughnuts," he deadpans.)

The possibility of running for public office has been in his mind for "a long time." Mr. Harris, 29, said he was raised to be active in his community, but he claims he's not a politician, just a businessman who wants to go into politics.

He announced his aspirations for the mayor's office in March and will be on the ballot in November as an independent, and he lists a lot of reasons he wants to get into politics in his hometown:

He said he admires the legacy of the late Mayor Bob O'Connor, whom he called a family friend, and said that although Mr. O'Connor was a "consummate politician," his "gift was being authentic, saying what he was going to do, and doing it, and that was unusual."

Outside of work and his campaign, he says he enjoys Pittsburgh's "wide and unique cuisine," enthusiastically recommending Toast on Baum Boulevard and Enrico's on Ellsworth Avenue.

He said he likes to explore the city's coffee shops and doesn't hesitate to make recommendations on those, either. (Tazza D'Oro in Highland Park.)

He's critical, though, of the inaccessibility of food late at night. "You can't even find a pizza at 3 [a.m.]. That's really strange [for a large city]."

Apart from the lack of late-night food choices, Mr. Harris says that Pittsburgh needs to become a "transitional city" to attract young people, particularly young people who will settle here.

He gives the example of 22-year-olds who graduate college, move to New York, Washington, D.C., Boston or Austin, and then around age 27 pick up and "settle down" somewhere else. The lack of available jobs makes it tough for people in their mid- to late-20s to return here.

"It's not the result of our economy being terrible or backwards," he said. "The only hope for attracting the young is a good path to entrepreneurship."

He says he would work to bring businesses into the city and create jobs -- everything he discusses about his campaign comes back to those two points, and he's clearly put a lot of thought into it.

My degree is in English writing and anthropology, not economics, and he was careful to go over unfamiliar economic concepts -- hands flying as he details the importance of keeping money within the neighborhoods, not allowing it to seep out to corporations.

Then he stops, and, for just a second, focuses on something other than business or economics:

"We have a great strength of relationship with our kin," he says of Pittsburghers. He likes the idea that people in this area can say, "I came from nothing and built something in Pittsburgh."

And that is precisely why it's worth living, working and settling here.