Expat Jon takes on the world (well... Sweden)

My first hero ever was my dad. He was the fastest, strongest, smartest and funniest man in the world. He could do no wrong in my eyes. I'm sure that's the case with many young children. My case of dad-praise had to have been extreme. I never snapped out of it. I stopped believing in the Tooth Fairy and Santa Clause at about the same time as other kids, but it took me way longer to stop idolizing my dad. It's weird because the signs were there. I didn't bat an eye when he would flirt with the lady at the fast food window. I even longed for my opportunity to do it one day when I got a car and drove with my sunglasses on, bobbing my head to the latest hot music. I passed no judgement when he had an affair with my older sister's mother while disguising it as an attempt to let us get to know his daughter. After all, he was such a cool guy it was understandable that plenty of women would want him. For years I'd go along with his version of events just to make it e...

This blog is normally about funny or embarrassing stories from my life.  This entry won't be.  I feel like it would be irresponsible for me to let another story like this one to go by without me addressing it.  I've never felt that my voice was big enough or that I would be helping anything by saying anything so I just kept on with my silly stories.  Don't worry, the silly stories will resume, but I needed to get this off of my chest.  The Ferguson situation has moved me to do so... The Story Unless you've been living under a rock or something, you know about the shooting death of teenager Michael Brown at the hands of a police officer named Darren Wilson.  The case caught national attention due to the reported pattern of excessive force used by (mostly white) police officers against (mostly black) civilians. According to reports, Michael Brown had his hands up in a submissive posture when he was shot at least six times by Darren Wilson.  Accordi...

This weekend I drove my body to the limits.  I don’t know why, but I can’t stop thinking that I’m still a young buck.  This may have been the last straw.  Maybe this break up was just what I needed. It started on Friday.  I got off of work at about 7pm and went home to get ready for my boy’s party.  I missed the last party that they threw, so it was a must that I check this one out.  What kind of friend misses two parties?  So – arm twisted and everything – I had to go.  Plus, our podcast endorsed the party, so basically this was a business trip.  Swedie understood.  I had a good time that Friday night.  I knew I had to work on Saturday at 9am, so I didn’t go too crazy.  I had a few drinks and grooved to the great mix of Hip-Hop/Reggae/Dancehall that always accompanies these parties .  I even left before the end of the party like a responsible adult.  I got home at about 2:30am.  My friend William r...