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

I pride myself on my balance.  I regularly say that I've only fallen [enter low number here] times in my life.  If you don't count playing recreational sports, this is true.  I think it's because I find falling embarrassing.  It is!  All of your swagger and coolness deteriorates before you hit the ground.  They haven't yet created a smooth way to get up from a fall.  You can either lay there like you're hurt (if you're not), try to get up quickly (risking a second fall which drops your swag to nearly unrecoverable levels) or laugh at yourself.  I look at it as a loss.  Falling down is failure. Obviously it's not really failure.  It's a fact of life.  Gravity is fighting us for our entire existence on this planet.  And gravity is undefeated.  Nobody beats gravity.  Not even me!  Well, technically even when I'm standing upright, gravity is holding me down, but you get what I mean.  My cool needs to prevail. ...

I think my Swedish friends think I'm a little bit crazy.  I even think I may be a little bit crazy.  But in a good way.  I'm that "good crazy".  You know how you have that one friend who always has some crazy new idea?  Then the next week, that friend has a new, crazy new idea?   I'm that friend.  The thing is, my ideas are good.  Really good!  With the proper resources, all of my ideas would be successful and heralded by all that know of them. But then another idea comes along.  And that earlier idea becomes... meh.  I mean, it's still a good idea -  a great idea even - but this one is better and it needs all of my focus.  Even though the plan is for me to fully execute the first brilliant idea and then follow up with the even better idea.  But that new idea is so tantalizing that I just have to go all in on it.  Then the other slightly less brilliant idea gets left in the shadows.  You know how this sto...

When I was a kid, I was quick to fight.  I didn't have issues at home or anything that led me to it, I just didn't see any problem with punching someone in the face to solve a dispute.  This led to me winning many fights.  I thought it was because I was so tough.  In hindsight I realize that human nature is to avoid physical confrontation, so the first person to throw the punch usually wins.  Neither of my parents gave the "If someone hits you, hit them back" speech.  It was more like, "Hit him before he hits you and hurts you" in our household.  We weren't allowed to fight each other, though; and I happen to have the most annoying brother ever,  so I guess I took my frustrations out on kids at the playground. I was also always a bit stronger than my peers.  My baby fat had some muscle under it too.  I had a reputation as the twin that wasn't afraid to fight.  And I wasn't.  I once punched a kid in the face on the basketball ...

So Pride Week just happened here in Stockholm last week.  The week of festivities is culminated by a huge parade.  Word is, there were 60,000 people at the parade this year!  That's a lot of pride.  I had to work on Saturday, so I was unable to attend.  I hadn't thought about attending, though.  I didn't know how big it is here.  I didn't know the level of support that the gay community gets here.  I must say, it's remarkable. While I was working, Young Cousin called me to see what I was doing.  I told him I was working.  He said that was unfortunate.  He was calling to invite me to watch the parade from his friend's balcony.  He said they were having fun and the view of the parade was awesome.  I tried to hide my surprise.  Young Cousin is 23.  At 23, a gay pride parade would probably have been one of the last places I would have gone to.  I wasn't homophobic or anything (or was I?), but I was more ignoran...