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

Hey! Yes I still blog.  I just took a month off because I didn't have anything nice to say after what was for me a very disappointing US presidential election.  I won't delve into that subject now.  I'll write a bit about something that makes me feel better about everything.  BASH! Handshakes are one of those things a parent teaches their child about.  It's a part of the first impression.  Make it firm.  Establish respect right away.  Look the person in the eye and smile.  I'm not quite there with Bash just yet, but I'm already prepared for that conversation.  He'll never have a "dead fish" handshake.  Nor will he be that guy that squeezes the fuck out of your hand while staring intently into your soul.  That person is actually worse because they make YOU childish and you start trying to squeeze back while trying not to show the pain.  But you're already at a disadvantage because that asshole started squeezing first! ...

Eating on public transportation makes me feel guilty somehow.  I don't know what it is.  It's my food. There's no rule against it.  Something about it makes me feel rude or something.  Once I was taking a very short flight in North Carolina.  The plane was a very small plane that barely had room in the cabin for carry-on luggage.  I firmly believe that there is a rule in the universe that mandates that I sit next to an obese person in a situation like this.  I  looked at my ticket... F4... F4.  I scanned the plane and saw a woman in one and a half seats.  I knew the half was F4.  This was a short layover.  I had hurriedly stopped by Burger King on my way to my gate.  I didn't have time to eat it, but whatever, I'd eat on the flight. I counted the rows as I approached the half seat.  I hoped there was a number between 3 and 4 that I hadn't ever learned about.  There wasn't.  I was in the half seat next to ...

I have always prided myself on not getting sick and having few medical issues.  I used to brag about having better than 20/20 vision.  Unfortunately I can't anymore since my left eye seems to be worse than my right eye.  In the past if I had any issues with this remarkable structure that is my body I've just let it pass or ask around for advice.  I definitely wouldn't go to the doctor.  That's a sign of weakness! Now I'm older and wiser.  You hear too many tragic stories that maybe could have turned out differently if someone would have just gone and gotten checked out when they first noticed something was wrong.  My great-grandmother was unknowingly rubbing BenGay (pain medicine) on a lump in her breast that turned out to be caused by the cancer that eventually killed her.  I have a kid now, so I can't be as reckless as I used to.  If I have an issue now, I won't just keep it to myself. So Monday I noticed some blood when I wiped after u...

I'd like to start off by offering my condolences to you and yours if you lost someone in 2014.  My family here was hit with the devastating loss of two beautiful people that we will never forget.  I can only hope that the memories of those lost can live on in your heart and mind forever. ---------- It's 2015.  I know.  New Year's Day was on a Thursday and I was supposed to release a blog entry that day.  Well I didn't.  So technically the first thing I did in 2015 to my readers is lie to them.  I would say disappoint, but I don't think it was that disappointing.  Bright side: at least the standard for me is low for the rest of the year! I would love to say that I didn't write because I was too hungover.  Because I partied so hard.  Or that I had to work all day and it was too hectic.  But truth is, I was home before 2:30am (early for me on New Year's) and I was off both New Year's Eve and New Year's Day.  So it boils down...

I've always envied the characters on TV shows that get to come home to the house they grew up in.  I will never have that luxury.  We moved around too much.  At a very young age, my father was still in the Army.  Then we moved to Chicago.  Then my father enlisted again.  Then he got out again.  Then my parents split up.  Then money issues and different circumstances had us on the move for years.  Then my mom began traveling with work. Miami is definitely home, but I've lived all over the city.  And it's a pretty big city.  We lived in Miami Gardens, North Miami Beach, Liberty City, Carol City, Pompano, Fort Lauderdale, Oakland Park and probably some more areas, but you get my point.  We moved around a lot.  Now my mother lives in Maryland, so when I go "home" it's not like on TV when the kids go to that room they grew up in and it's just like they left it.  I can't rummage through a garage and find old pictures th...

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. ...

Sometimes things from the past belong just there.  In the past.  I was recently smacked in the face with this fact.  My friends and I regularly reference memories of our childhood.  We talk about things that were awesome and shaped our lives.  On most occasions those references include clothes, games or movies.  When it comes to movies, I'm obsessive.  I want everyone to see the movie.  I love dialog, so I memorize the cool quotes and then use those quotes in real life situations.  Normally I do this with popular movies so I don't look like Rainman.  But here, I look like Rainman anyway because movies that were popular back home might not have been popular here. My movie-watching prime was from the late-80's to early 00's.  I still watch movies regularly, but I must say I'm not quite the repeat watcher that I used to be.  The last movie I obsessed over was "There Will Be Blood".  You can't really go around quoting that m...

I think I've mentioned briefly on this blog that I have a habit of regularly reviewing embarrassing and awkward moments of my life.  Whenever I go through one of these flashbacks, I get that same embarrassed and awkward feeling again.  Sometimes I laugh and shake my head.  If there is embarrassing dialogue involved, I may repeat the dialogue in a silly, sarcastic voice.       - "I've driven with too much alcohol in the system..." I said this gem a few weeks ago when I was taking a driver safety course for my Swedish license when the instructor asked if anyone had experienced double-vision.  See what I mean!  It's like my brain finds the least acceptable thing to do/say in a social setting and then I DO IT.  I get awkward now just thinking about it.  What was I thinking? The place where I do most of my embarrassing life reflections happens to be in the shower.  Maybe it's a symbolic thing.  Part of the cleansing process. ...

They say first impressions are lasting.  I for one do not agree with this.  Sometimes you can think one thing about someone or something and then later realize you are completely wrong.  I found this out about Swedes.  At first glance, one could be led to believe that Swedes are a cold and unfriendly people.  They do walk around looking straight ahead and avoiding eye contact, after all.  I've gotten to the point now where I have to force out a "God Morgon" or "Hej Hej" because of the inevitable rejection when the person walks past a bit faster like they spotted a pistol on my waistband.  But I still do my greetings.  Why?  Well first of all, because I vowed to not lose my American happy-go-luckiness.  Secondly, I have yet to encounter an unreasonably rude or cold or unfriendly Swedish person. Of course you have your douchebags.  But that's a given.  I'm not counting those people.  If you do get past the unreasonably unc...

As I get closer to doing some actual parenting, I have been reflecting on the performance of my parents.   I'm sure as most people, I want to take the good things they did for me and apply it to my parenting.  This only guarantees that I will mess this kid up in a completely different way.  I'm fine with that, though.  Messing up kids is the main part of parenting.  During my reflection of my youth, I realized that my parents lied to me a lot.  I was one of those kids that thought my parents could do no wrong and knew everything.  Google didn't exist back then to prove otherwise, so I just took their word for everything. My dad was there full time up until I was 9.  You couldn't tell me that he wasn't the fastest and strongest man in the world back then.  I would argue with kids in school about how strong my dad was.       - My dad can pick up a house!       - Well my  dad can pick up... a... BUILDING! ...

One of the reasons moving here has been so easy is my in-laws.  I couldn't have gotten luckier in that respect.  The last time I was out here I got pretty close with everyone.  Of course there's Bro-in-law.  He looked out for us big time when we got back here.  We lived with him while we navigated the very reasonable and sensible housing situation in Stockholm.  I can't thank him enough for that.  The last time I was here, he turned 18.  I remember the birthday celebration.  I remember Swedie buying cigarettes/snus for him.  Now he's all grown up with his own place!  He's 24.  He's also my workout partner.  I remember when he didn't know a thing about lifting weights.  Little bro all grown up now.  I'm teaching him about American football.  He's taken me to a hockey game.  GO DJURGÅRDEN!!! It's been cool kicking it with him.  He drinks and has a good time, but he's more of the house party guy. ...

One of the things I've noticed about Sweden is the attention people pay to fashion.  It's pretty cool.  You rarely see Swedes in a "thrown-together" outfit.  Swedie's sister and cousin came to visit us in the States and they spent an hour putting makeup on and pretty outfits just to walk the dog around the neighborhood.  Now that I'm here I see that's not just a teenage phase.  The culture seems to be to genuinely care about the details of your outfit.  I can dig it.  I can be like that at times myself.  I've seen the business types with their tailored suits and bright patterned shirts.  The beard seems to be in right now (I'm even guilty of this one).  Fly socks, sneakers, skirts, dresses and suits.  I saw light scarfs in the summer and shiny nail polish and lipstick that work in perfectly with the rest of the ensemble.  People come to the gym with well-put-together workout clothes on.  Even the hipsters take their time t...

One of the things that's considered pretty popular amongst men in America is strip clubs.  Going to a strip club is a pretty prominent thing in movies and TV when depicting the "average Joe" going out with his friends.  If someone tells you that they're going to a bachelor party, you assume there will either be a strip club or strippers involved.  That's not so much the case here in Sweden.  From what I hear, strip clubs do exist here.  But I have yet to see a strip club marquee or billboard or any other type of advertisement for one.  Sweden is known for having beautiful women, so one would assume that there would be an easily-located place where one could see said beautiful women either drop it like it is indeed hot or shake what her momma had given her. I have heard about the strip clubs here.  Legend has it that they are unreasonably expensive ($50+ cover charge, $100+ dances) and don't sell alcohol.  Those facts alone would keep me from patr...