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

Merry Christmas readers!!!  I would say "Happy Holidays", but I'm completely against when people say that.  Everyone's so sensitive nowadays that I can't even wish people a Merry Christmas without feeling bad or improper.  If someone said "Happy Hanukkah" to me, I would probably say it right back.  I want them to have a happy whatever they celebrate.  I don't know anyone that celebrates Kwanzaa, but I would definitely extend wishes of Kwanzaa happiness if I did.  So don't get on me for saying "Merry Christmas".  Especially when  I'm  the one wishing the well-wishes and I happen to celebrate Christmas.  And it shouldn't be a surprise gesture.  I mean, look around.  People have didn't put up holiday  lights or decorate a holiday  tree.  They aren't playing holiday  music on the radio.    Well, actually I've heard two Hanukkah songs this year and one was by Adam Sandler so I don't know if that really ...

The airport security process (that's probably more of an inconvenience than a deterrent) has driven me to dress like I'm going to a slumber party whenever I fly.  I don sweatpants, easily removable shoes (once sports sandals) and my trusty Okayplayer hoodie.  The sweatpants are comfortable, but they also do not require a belt.  I breeze through security (wallet, keys, etc in carry-on), kick my shoes off and throw them in the bin.  I laugh in the face of the security agent that asks if I have anything in my pockets or if I'm wearing a belt.  Stupid question.  I'm Expat Jon! Miami was still Miami on my recent trip, so I had no use for that hoodie or those sweatpants once we landed.  My first order of business was to hang them up in the closet until it was time to head back to the lovely Swedish weather. Sure enough, on the last day, my travel outfit was waiting for me.  I took my shorts off and put my sweats on.  I was ready to get home...

Bye Bye Beach I'm winding down now.  It's almost time for Swedie to start pressuring me about packing my bags to go to the airport even though we don't leave for seven hours.  It's that time for reflection on a great trip.  This has been my best trip home since leaving home for the Air Force back in 2000.  There was a different element to this trip since we had Bash with us.  I know he won't remember this trip, but I enjoyed trying to pass on as much to him as possible about my home and family.  I wanted him to want to be held by family members (he didn't, of course).  I wanted him to enjoy Busch Gardens (he slept through the Sesame Street part).  Oh well.  This trip was good on so many levels.  I'm so glad we didn't do an east coast marathon like we did last year.  There was so little stress this time around.  Tampa and Miami and that's it.  Perfect!  We had the perfect hosts here on the South Florida po...

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...

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...

Okay, so I'm a bit late.  Forgive me.  I basically lost a day traveling and it's still Thursday evening where I'm at, so I don't feel so bad. We touched down a little less than 24 hours ago.  I'm so proud of Bash.  He was such a champion.  We had two flights to get here and the first one was only an hour long.  I considered that one the tester flight.  Bash sure aced that test.  Swedie gave him a bottle as we were taking off to combat ear popping.  It must have worked.  He drank in peace and went to sleep for most of the flight.  It was awesome. The second flight started off a little scary.  First off, in typical Expat Jon fashion, I strategically walked away and abandoned Swedie in an awkward conversation with a fellow traveler.  Glad it wasn't me.  I came back and Swedie tried to return the favor, but I was too slick for that.  Won't get me!  We got on the flight at Bash's lunch time.  We tried to...

I know, I know.  Home is technically here now.  I live in Sweden.  But I'm at that point of excitement when you start saying in [insert time frame] I will be in [insert American city].  Well, next week's blog will be sent from Miami.  Bam!  So excited. This one is going to be different.  I'm always excited to go back home, but this time I'm bringing the next generation.  So far only my mother and brother have gotten to meet Bash.  That takes it to another level.  I can't wait for Bash to meet all of the crazy people that helped make me into the crazy person that I am.  I can't wait for all of the crazy people to meet the person that I'm going to make into a crazy person one day! I'm a bit apprehensive about the flight.  I'm that passenger that rolls his eyes and wonders why people can't get their kids under control.  Karma will probably guarantee that I'm the apologetic parent at some point on this flight.  The go...