In an attempt to not be so pagan

When you get a text message that reads, "Grattis på namsdagen" you tend to want to look into that. Translation: "Happy name day."

Upon further review...

The namesdays originate in the list of holidays celebrated in commemoration of saints and martyrs of the Catholic Church...During medieval times the namesdays were of little significance in the Nordic countries, except for the celebration of patron saints for various guilds. A more widespread celebration of namesdays began in the 17th century, at first in the royal court and among aristocracy, but successively also among the general population. The Church of Sweden promoted celebration of namesdays over birthdays, as the latter was seen as a pagan tradition.

And it doesn't matter if you're Catholic or not; if you've got a name you've got an extra excuse to celebrate. So I guess any and all Michaels, or more commonly Mikaels, around the world (Scandinavia mainly) will be eating cake, tipping pints or doing whatever we choose as our celebratory method.

There have been plenty of times when I've been standing with good friends somewhere and someone will be introducing someone to the group. Commonly it goes like, "This is Mike, Mike, Mike and Mike." Needless to say, we have a popular name, and if we played our cards right we could make September 29th one hell of a day.

And what would any religious day be without a certain saint or martyr watching over your shoulder?

'Archangel Michael Trampling the Devil Underfoot' by Simon Ushakov (1676). You could mess with me today, but I really wouldn't. I've got some major dudes backing me. We're like a gang; a gang of boys with wings and none of us even bothers watching our backs, as it has been taken care of.

Resident: conclusion of remote findings

I trust everyone's weekend was all they had hoped it would be, yes? I spent mine putting my belongings into cardboard boxes and garbage bags. But by noon on Sunday most everything I owned of importance was strategically packed into a borrowed forest green minivan and on its way to its new storage locale: my parents' basement. Knowing I'd be taking not even 1/10th of what I own with me to Sweden was a bit sad. As the van bounced down the highway, Pops driving, I looked over the boxes that I was reusing from previous moves. They were marked up with Sharpie: "living room," "books" or "kitchen". Past lives seemed so organized and predetermined. To say that's positive or not isn't what I'm really in the mood to discuss. I can assume that what I learned from then made me who I am today. And so I go...

Fact: The Swedish Parliament is called Riksdag and is situated in Stockholm. The house of Parliament is called Riksdagshuset. There are 349 Members of Parliament. After the 2002 election, 45 percent of Members of Parliament are women, which is a world record.

I'd have to legally reside in Sweden for three years before I'd be allowed to vote in any election. But that's not to say that I'm not interested in the politics of my new home. Right now I really don't know enough to side with any of their seven political parties.

I've been asked quite often about Sweden's current political stance and I've had a hard time giving a good answer. The term "socialist" comes up usually and then the conversation usually moves to someone asking about their seemingly utopian policies on health care and education. I quickly confirm that Utopia doesn't exist and if you'd talk to most Swedes they'd, like any other human being, have complaints and ideas for change in their government. Take this into consideration: although there are seven parties, the socialist democrat party has basically been in power for at least the past forty years. In the last election in 2002 39.8 percent of the votes were socialist democrat. That leaves 60 percent of the voters wanting a change. The next election is in September of 2006.

For those of you with sponge-like brains, here's some general info I rounded up:

+ The present Social Democratic government, led by Prime Minister Göran Persson, came to power in 1994 after losing power briefly in 1991. King Carl XVI Gustaf (Bernadotte) ascended to the throne on September 15, 1973. His authority is formal, symbolic, and representational.

+ Sweden became a member of the European Union in 1995. Some argued that it went against Sweden's historic policy of neutrality.

+ Sweden fought in its last war in 1814. They are an Armed Neutrality. The Swedish Armed Forces, or Försvarsmakten, is a Government agency responsible for the peacetime operation of the armed forces of Sweden. The primary long time task of the agency is to prepare for the defense of the country in the event of war, with the short-term task of training and deploying peace support forces abroad.

That'll draw to a close my public research. Only scratching the surface is exactly what I wanted to do with these past three posts. My goal was to put some general info up for daily readers and close friends that are interested in what is ahead for me. And, I think that gaining info on how other parts of the world operate is nothing short of necessary. We as Americans really do live in a sheltered place and are, at times, quick to comment with a narrow view of the world. It's not any of our faults; it's the reality and price that comes with living in one of the richest and most powerful countries in history. Chicago will always be my home and I'll always be an American. But it's nearly time to practice what he preached and live my life as only I can and live by words that jumped off a page and slapped me in the face and by the grace of some sort of god never stopped speaking to me...

Hold still, man, regain your love of life and go down from this mountain and simply be-be-be the infinite fertilities of the one mind of infinity...?just flow, flow, be you all, be you what it is, it is only what it always is...?So shut up, live, travel, adventure, bless and don't be sorry

Resident part deux

The question I am asked the most is what I will do for work once in Sweden. How will I financially survive in such an expensive country? Ok, when I got back from my first visit (sort of a visit, it was a 2-week tour) one of my main quips was how expensive everything was. No matter how much free beer those clubs stocked us up with we always found ways to blow through our allotted personal kroner on overpriced beverages and whatnot. Of course all of this changes when you actually hang out with a native and get to know your surroundings. It’s just how I used to think Chicago was expensive before I actually lived here and started figuring it out. You shop here, not there. You frequent this place, not that one. Luckily the rent I’ll be contributing to is cheaper there than what I pay here. And what about all of that beer I’ll be consuming? Besides the fact that I don’t think I can consume as much in the future as I did in that afore mentioned two-week period, the smart way to drink is at student nations. Slight problem: I’m not a student! To get into these nations where the beer and food is cheap you must have a student ID. Last year when I was in Uppsala, the city in which I’ll be living, the process of obtaining a student ID, even if you weren’t studying, was pretty lax. Rumor has it that the officials are getting wise. Wish me luck on this one.

Back to my point, I don’t have a job lined up in Sweden. I’ve been saving my pennies here for the past year or so. I’m going into the move with a slight financial buffer zone. Honestly, I did what I could. From what I’ve been told, because education is free, a majority of people have experienced higher education in specialized fields. Take that and couple it with the fact that there is already a lack of jobs and you get a population of people, those who actually have jobs, overqualified for their position. But before I can really concentrate on working I need to put a ton of effort into learning the language:

I wrote about my beginner’s Swedish class here. And here’s what else you might like to know: “Swedish is a Germanic language related to Danish and Norwegian but different in pronunciation and orthography. English is by far the leading foreign language, particularly among students and those under age 50.” The Swedish alphabet, compared to the English, has three additional letters. These new letters were the first hurdle for me to overcome in my early studies. I “learned” them like this:

Å - Pronounced as the English "o" as in "for".
Ä - Pronounced as the English "ai" as in "fair.
Ö - Pronounced roughly like the English "u" as in "turn".

My residence permit allows me into Swedish for Immigrants courses free of charge. These classes are provided by the government and, based on the info that I have, meet about four times a week for about four or five hours a day. It’s possible I’ll be the only American in my class. So, English will not be a common language therefore Swedish will be the only language spoken in the class. I’m really interested in their teaching techniques. Getting enrolled in this class is one of my main priorities upon arrival.

Enjoy your weekend. And check back early next week; there's plenty more knowledge to leak.

Resident

This is the Great Knowing, this is the Awakening, this is Voidness -- So shut up, live, travel, adventure, bless and don't be sorry. – Jack Kerouac, from ‘Desolation Angels’

A week ago I received an envelope from FedEx. It was what I’d been waiting for: my passport back from the strict yet sensitive grip of the Swedish Migration Board. Flip through the pages past my growing collection of entry and departure stamps and there comes a colorful and obviously official document complete with a recent photo of myself, three crowns, various signatures and one of those seals that you can feel when you run your fingers over it. I was granted a two-year residence permit. The process of applying, being interviewed and finally getting accepted took about five months and cost me $65, plus shipping.

But it took more than just time to kill and a money order to obtain it. I look at that page of my passport as a sort of reward for the past 2 years of sacrifice, too long gaps of loneliness, uncertainty and jarring airport goodbyes that go along with a long-distance relationship. I guess I knew what I was getting myself into. And always in the back of my head was the fact that what this was all going to eventually come down to was one day getting on a plane with no return ticket and everything of tangible importance strapped to my person. That day now has a name, October 24th, 2005.

A friend of mine recently said that, “The right people get it.” What he meant is that the good ones, those who I live and die for, will see me off with a smile and high hopes. And anyone who banks on the negative side of leaving a completely stable life in our comfortable country in an even more comfortable city for a land where I’ll *gasp* have to learn a new language and assimilate into a culture different than ours will surely fall by the wayside. These people do exist. They’ve made it clear by losing touch in a way that makes my departure easier for them. Most effectively, the distance comes by not asking the questions that beg to be answered.

The questions I’ve been getting from them, the good ones, have ranged from, “I heard there’s not much sunlight there, true?” to, “What are you going to do for work?” to, “Are they Socialist?” to, “Does she have a sister? Is she hot?” And although I’m in no way an expert on Swedish culture, climate or politics I can say that I’ve spent my time there as a tourist and I’ve done a lot of the research you’d expect me to do. I wanted to cull some of my knowledge and findings here for those interested. I hope to give you an idea of what I’ll be expecting once I’m there and of some of the strides I’m taking to become accepted and remain productive.

In the coming days I’ll get more in depth and share some these specifics. More to come so stay tuned.

I can feel my body rock

Woke up to the sound of pouring rain
The wind would whisper and I’d think of you
And all the tears you cried, that called my name
And when you needed me I came through

And that's the song stuck in my head right now, cool. There's no rhyme or reason for these blasts from the past that find their way through the zillions of paths within my brain and rest on the tip of my tongue or zip around my lips as I hum the melody to myself. I did wake up to rain today. The rain wasn't exactly pouring and I doubt that I'd consider the wind's sound as a whisper. I chalk it up to complete randomness. Another:

You made me promises, promises
Knowing I'd believe
Promises, promises
You knew you'd never keep

This one bounced around my head for about a week before I finally sat down and Googled it to find out: 1. Who sang it and 2. What the other words were besides "promises, promises." I seriously sang that one phrase over and over for close to a week.

Now, it's ok when the song is one you know and you can sing a couple verses and then the chorus. If it's a song you love, it can be enjoyable to sit on the bus or walk down the street with a great song cranking through your head. But it's songs like "Promises Promises" and this one that you only know one select line to and nothing else that start to cause the problems. It gnaws at your insides and makes your brain tire. Here is my all time hardest (and longest running) instance of stumping myself:

Love, love on the run, breaking us down,
Though we keep holding on.
I don’t want to lose, no I can’t let you go.

Now, I only had the first line of this in my memory and hummed the rest. And, I believe that it is the bridge of the song. So, everyone I'd sing it to would be like, "How does the chorus go?" That's why I was asking you! I only know what seems to be some sort of bridge! Luckily this "love, love on the run" blurb didn't run my life and I'd forget about it for weeks until surely enough it would put itself back in line as one of my daily tasks.

Now this was years ago, but from what I remember I finally sat down and just did a search for the lyric that I knew and then easily found out, defeated. Anyone know what it is right now before clicking on this link? If you did, your useless musical knowledge is far better than mine and you should be proud of yourself.

Free baseball

We didn't care that we are seemingly out of the race. All that made sense was the game in front of us. We didn't think about next season or even today. It was about that game only. Cubs vs. Reds, September 13, 2005.

We left our seats in the top of the tenth inning and walked up the aisle to a smoking section. The Cubs put the Reds away and got ready to bat. Our new favorite Cub Matt Murton lead off the tenth with a base hit. Now, based on the conversation that had been going all night, if we went back to our seats we would've in fact jinxed the rest of the game and been to blame for another Cub loss. It was just that sort of vibe, no questions asked. We had no choice but to stay put in the spacious walkway. The bases loaded up and then Todd Walker drove in the game winning run. 4-3, and for a quick and easy moment everything made sense and finally felt right.

Where credit is due

"Katrina exposed serious problems in our response capability at all levels of government and to the extent the federal government didn't fully do its job right, I take responsibility." - George W. Bush

Go to google.com and type in the word failure. Then click the "I'm feeling lucky" button.

Fashion over function

"It's impossibly small." "It's thinner than a NO.2 pencil." - Apple CEO Steve Jobs commenting on the new iPod nano.

Stop, everybody just shut it down and stop for a second. Now, iPods are amazing devices; I've come to depend on mine. My CDs have been collecting dust since I purchased mine a few months ago. I get home from work and plug the iPod into the stereo. Boom, rock. Everything at the push of a button. Technology babies we surely are.

One thing that kept me from being an early adopter to the iPod was the price tag. They originally started at around $400 US. I was content with my CD collection and since I was commuting by car that had a CD player I didn't really care about any sort of portable mp3 player. My friends who were on the train and walking a hundred blocks a day in the city all had iPods before me, which made total sense. And of course as time went on the price went down and the memory went up. So I went for it. I purchased the standard 20 GB model.

So now iPods are all the rage and it doesn't surprise me at all. They are smart and quality. If you can afford it, get it, you'll love it. Now, again, back to the financials of it. Dropping a few hundred dollars isn't easy for most. But I don't really think people are checking out the specs on these before they're buying. It seems that they're looking at the ones that come in pretty colors, or now the one that is the thinnest and just impulse buying. What ever happened to reading the fine print (it's not really that fine I guess) and seeing what you're getting for your money?

Let's do some math and compare two of the above-mentioned models.

nano : 4 GB : 1.5 ounces : $249
iPod : 20 GB : 5.9 ounces : $299

Ok, so now. The only thing the nano has going for it is its weight. We're talking about ounces here kids. Oh, you're sporty and you like to run with your iPod and you want the nano because it's ultra light? If you can't handle an extra 4 ounces on your jog then you should make a beeline to Hooters and give up. This is ridiculous. The difference here is you get 16 more gigs (approximately 4000 songs) for $50 more. And this pricing is for the new standard iPod that comes with a color screen! Compare all of the specs here.

Work's work and Carlos Zambrano needed sleep

Blogging to get my mind off of the presentation I am required to be a part of at work today. I can stand up in front on anyone with a guitar and voice and not sweat about it at all. But when I have yak about good and bad oral history interview techniques in front of professional interviewers and videographers a kid gets a bit tense. It's only 10AM and I'm already thinking about my six-pack of Danish beer that I'll deem my reward. There are many visitors from around the country milling about. And I'm wearing a nametag. Hello, my name is...

On to baseball. So here's a few things I recently learned about major league baseball starting pitchers.

+ If the home team has various home uniforms, the starting pitcher gets to choose what uniform the team wears that day. For example, you won't see Carlos Zambrano wearing the traditional Cubs pin stripes. He always goes for the blue jerseys. That sucks I think. You are a CUB, wear those stripes.

+ If the home team has a game and is slated to travel to a different city after the game or early the next morning the starting pitcher for that coming away game will travel ahead of the rest of the team in order to get a good night's rest for his start. Smart. Mr. Zambrano did this for his start tonight in San Francisco.

Hold your thumbs. And thanks.

Road Hog

I've come to dislike automobiles in a way that isn't easy to explain. First let me say that it's not that I won't get into one; they are necessary evils. You can't bike/walk/take a bus/train everywhere and I understand that. Some people have to commute by car because they have no choice and that's just fine. Chicago residents that use cars on a daily basis, um, sorry but I couldn't be farther from agreeance with you. I'm not going to list the reasons why driving sucks because...you already know why. It's just that lots of people are just so used to and dependent upon a car. This city is what changed me. I'm on my way out of this car culture. It's one of the easier things to leave behind.

Funniest part is that I own a car. Sure, it sits in hibernation for two to three week spans. It has no stereo (was stolen), no air condish (never worked) and it smelled like old coffee for a really long time until I bombarded it with air fresheners. This car is like a locket with a picture of an old friend in it. A remembrance of a past life. And it's not like this old friend died, he's still around but I've got to cut the strings. Let him go.

Financial: before I can sell a car I had to make sure everything is in working order. $200 later the car is "fixed". Note: I drove the car to the suburbs where the only mechanic on Earth that I trust is located. I'm guessing I can sell it to a teenager who needs a first car or someone who just needs something to kick around in. Great gas mileage! Spending that $200 made my blood boil. It was the absolute last way I wanted to drop money.

Now, since I don't drive I bike. To/from work. To/from Jewel. To/from any party or bar you can think of. I've ridden in the stupidest winter conditions and I've ridden on every beautiful day this Chicago summer has given us. My favorite rides are home from work. By this time the Loop is starting to clear out and air has usually cooled off. This isn't to say that it's always aces on my ride home. Kids, you've gotta watch out for....drum roll....business woman in BMW convertible! Last night, I'm cruising downtown on a street that doesn't have a bike lane. This doesn't mean I can't ride on it. It just means that there is less room for bikes and cars to coexist. You've got to be more careful, obviously. Regardless of whether there is a row of parked cars next to me or not I (we) maintain a straight line down the road. Riding straight: no confusion to anyone. Riding crooked/back n' forth: guts on pavement. BMW convertible lady rolls up next to me with less than a foot to spare. UNDER HER BREATH she rumbles something my way and I hear her. NOTE: I don't listen to my iPod while I ride and if you do you're dumb AND you miss out on what people say to you as they pass! So, from what I can tell she is telling me that I should've moved over because I was on a stretch of road (about a block) with no cars to my right. And because of this I made her drive in a way that made her slightly slow down and pay attention.

Red light. YES! I stop short of the intersection and pull up parallel to her. Her convertible (top down, natch) leaves her open for conversation whether she likes it or not. Now, I'm not angry. She didn't yell at me like others have. We were two adults having a conversation about the car/bike relationship in the middle of street in downtown Chicago, no big deal. She told me she had a friend who was killed on a bike and gets nervous whenever she sees us in traffic. I explained to her that the way I ride (straight) is to stay in the driver's field of vision and that continually scooting over and then coming back closer to traffic makes it more dangerous for everyone. The light changes and she tells me that she sees where I'm coming from, but that she can't help but think of her dead friend. I agree with her and confirm again that I'm a safe rider for that reason: I don't want to be like her friend.

It's a grid system. There are lights that mean stop and go. You look both ways before you do anything. You take into account that you aren't guaranteed another second of breath. If you look at that commute in that way I think you'll be alright. That's how I roll. I don't like your car and I don't like how the exhaust stinks. And if you ride with the top down and want to talk about how we can get along, then that's cool. Let's chat, just make it quick because I've got to clip into these pedals and beat you to the next light.

Involvement

A couple people I know have been, in various ways, involved in the Hurricane Katrina aftermath and clean-up. Here's links to what they had to say about their experiences.

Lance Walker, a Houstonian, has been volunteering at the Astro Dome. His entry is here and the rest of the blog, in which other volunteers are keeping score, is over here.

Bob Nanna has been on tour in the South during all of this. For his first-hand account, click.

Many of us will be with family and friends this weekend. We'll be celebrating, surrounded by plates of food and drink. People very close to us haven't had food/drink in days. Help.


Red Cross I Salvation Army

Going mobile

The dimensions of my bag of choice, the Chrome Metropolis, are: 26 x 14 x 7 (flat dimensions) Volume: 2000 cu. in. (not based on flat dimensions). Let's go ahead and assume that the good people that package up those nifty 12" Apple iBooks took those dimensions and made for certain that their total packaging exceeded my bag's limits by such a small amount simply to tick off good-hearted biking boys such as myself. It was laughable how close the box came to fitting. If I pushed any harder I would've busted out some of those outlast-a-nuclear bomb stitches that Chrome boasts. Upon further experimentation I determined that the box would fit vertically in the bag, but that the top flap wouldn't come anywhere near close to closing. I also quickly found out that the 2 clasps that close the bag wouldn't reach far enough to secure the box into the bag. Luckily, the cross-chest stabilizer strap was long enough and reached diagonally across the box. This was as secure as it was going to get.

The ride from the FedEx distribution center to my apartment is only about 2 miles. I took it slow. The cars seemed to steer further away from me than usual. I think the site of the unbalanced load strapped to my back made them all nervous. Funny thing was that I didn't think once about what would happen to me personally if I took a spill, only how horrible it would be for my new computer. At the intersection of Milwaukee and Augusta, waiting to make a left turn, a street sweeper stopped to let me pass in front of him. He could tell I needed all the help I could get, and I did.

So I made it back safely and like a kid on Christmas I opened it up and plugged it in. So far I really haven't done much with it except install Photoshop and upload some pics from my camera. I was just glad to have it in my room in one piece that I was content with looking at it and not really messing around with it too much. I guess you're supposed to carry your laptop around with you, in your bag? I bought it so I could easily transport it with me wherever I am, right? Hmm...this could take some getting used to. They make armor for iPods, wondering if it exists for iBooks.