Angry African on the Loose™

I am a liberal and proud of it. And I am getting a little sick and tired of liberals always having to “play nice”.

(Okay, social liberal and fiscal conservative – but you get the point.)

The problem with liberals isn’t that they take a knife to a gun fight. No. They have a nuclear arsenal but they know responsibility. They think of the other side. They think of what is just and what is wrong. What would be fair to say and what won’t. They shouldn’t always have to be so nice.

The problem isn’t that liberals think they are better than others. It’s that they think of others in the first place. They don’t want to insult them. Wake up! It’s not as if the other side think of you before they act.

Look, liberals have justice and history behind them. Liberalism means moving forward. Not being scared of new things. Seeing things as a challenge and taking it on. The alternative means being scared of change and wanting to hold on to old values and systems. You think that this was how America was build? (Or the world for that matter.) You think America would be here if people were to scared to do new things? You wonder why the liberals are at the coast? Because they tackle the world. Head on. Hell, we would still be stuck riding bicycles if it was up to the other side. Guess who challenged the moon?

I am a liberal. Yes, I have a few deep rooted conservative streaks in me. Especially when it comes to economics. But true conservatism thank you. I don’t like it when government subsidize business. And I don’t like it when government have too much power over social issues and my personal life. It’s not conservatism. It’s “selectivism”… when we ”select” government to only conform to our values and we select to be tolerant to only those who look like us, speak like us, walk like us, do like us, eat like us, drive like us, waste like us… You get the picture. it’s not conservatism. It’s facism cloaked in pretty words. It’s socialism dressed in the latest value fashion. It’s nationalism shot with the latest high definition jargon.

But I am not always a nice liberal. I say that if a man slaps me I don’t hold his hand and wait for him to “come around” to my way of thinking. I’ve tried that. Guess what? It doesn’t always work. And I don’t have time for them to come along and see it my way. I’ll rather save the person who is dying of hunger and struggling with poverty. They are my real concern.

I am liberal and proud of it.

I am a liberal. But I am ready to rumble. Time to pull out the big guns of liberalism. Equality, justice, liberty and freedom for all.

Liberals… Stand up and be strong. Remember what you gave the world. The civil rights movement. Child labor laws. Equal rights for women. YOU gave this world equality. You gave it justice. Freedom. Liberty. You fought for it. And you won each and every time. Don’t forget that you have been on the right side of history each and every single time. But you only got it by fighting for it. By standing up and not being quite. And by fighting inch by inch. Step by step. Not always by being nice. Now is the time to fight for justice, equality, freedom and liberty for all. You made the world. Now take it back.

I am Liberal. And proud of it. But I don’t always play nice.

I am liberal. Proudly liberal. I am strong. And I am right. Feel my power. Liberal power!

(With a touch of true conservatism to add flavor.)

I'm back!

Okay…

I know I have been a very, very bad boy. Not blogging and being all quiet for the last few (or many) weeks. I am soooo sorry. I promise I won’t do it again. BIG promise! I promise on the right foot of Steven Gerrard. And if you have to go and look that up… Come on you Reds! You’ll never walk alone! Anyway…

Getting off topic again.

I’m back and I’m back with a bang baby! Loads have happened in the last few weeks. Loads. All good. Started a new job with an amazing bunch of people and a great organization. We almost moved to DC but thanks to the intervention of some really good people we decided to stay in good old Boston. It took all of 2 minutes for us to “consider” the offer to stay in Boston… It’s how long it took me to put the phone down, talk to my lovely suffering wife and phone them back. Wish I could tell you more but I know you don’t really want to know. Let’s just say that everything is good and I am back.

I can feel the blood flowing and the thoughts running wild. Actually…

… I have over 100 drafts almost ready to go! So be ready to be flooded with some new stuff and new ideas. I am African! I am On The Loose! But I’m not really that Angry. Damn… No one is perfect.

Just a quick story before I come back with a bang though over the next few days.

I am the funny one…

It is official – I am the funny one. I was away for a few days and my poor lovely suffering wife had the girls all to herself. You know I mess around with the girls when I am at home – have another look at Quick! Pull My Finger! and Love Is In The Air and She Doesn’t Care and… Okay, I’ll stop there for now. Anyway, my little princess (the youngest one) and me always do funny things – pulling faces in the mirror before I bath her (“picture time!” as she calls it), tickles until she begs me to stop and asks me to lift up my arms for her to tickle me, and we do a little bit of “potty talk” when I call her peanut-butt and she tells me she has “art in her fart” (and my wife tells me she needs another adult in the room please…) We just have fun. I love seeing her laugh and shake her head in disbelief because of her silly dad – just like a mother. It’s my “job” to make them laugh. And we have our little rituals to ensure we have fun and a few laughs every single day. And my poor wife tries to take over on the silly part when I am gone. And she really tries hard.

She did all the stuff I do when I am home. A little “potty talk”, funny faces in the mirror and tickles that stops just when I think her loud laughing might scare the people next door – or in the next town…

So my wife was doing all the stuff I do and really trying to be the funny one. My little one just tilted her head and said with a bit of a sigh, “Moooommmmm”. (You know the way kids stretch out the word to tell you enough is enough and then roll their eyes? Oh wait, my wife does that with me…) But no laughing from the little one. Just a “Stop it, moooommm.” My wife asked her what’s wrong and why no laughs. Her response?

“Dad is the funny one”.

And what about mom?

The truth and nothing but the truth from my little girl. And I could not agree more.

“Mom, you are the lovable one.”

Damn right!

__________________________

See ya all tomorrow! Get ready. Be ready. Or run… We’re gonna go on a bit of a ride. I just read Ubuntu and What Are We Doing? again to remind myself why I am doing this in the first place. Oh… And don’t forget about I Am A Traitor…

I’m back. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

I know what you blogged last summer…

Do you remember The Angel Maker? The one who makes angels from us ordinary people? I can tell you so much about her and never tell you even half the story. She is an angel now. I know she is because she’s been looking after me and my family for these last few weeks. I know she has been here. But this is about a message that came from those around her. The last line in an email I got from Uncle D had a simple message: “Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.” I am sure you know this line. But I didn’t.  

What takes my breath away?

My wife. She takes my breath away every single day. Words can never tell you how much I love her. Words can be deleted. My love for her can never be deleted. She makes me. She just makes me. I want nothing but her in life. Just a look. A smile. A little laugh. A hug. A whisper in my ear that she loves me. Squeezing my hand while we walk. Telling me she loves me more. Rolling her eyes when I do something silly. The way she drives the car and bitches at other drivers. Buying me a Starbucks on the way back from picking up the girls from ballet or school. Getting excited about the presents for the girls. Sharing a meal while the girls go wild. Lying in bed and reading a book. Just little moments when I know she is there. Twenty-four hours a day. She takes my breath away.

She takes my breath away by just being her. I always steal a glimpse at her when she isn’t looking. When she doesn’t know that I am looking. And my heart skips a beat. I look at her and can’t believe that we are together. That she loves me just the way I am. Warts and all. Craziness and everything.

She takes my breath away by just being with me. I can disappear in her lips. It’s the place where everything stops meaning anything. There is just her and me. Meant to be together. I love how I know every curve and how I am still amazed by the way she feels. Still surprised at how I love her more every day. I didn’t know it was possible to love this much and in this way.

She just takes my breath away. Every single second of every single day and in every single way imaginable.

We’ve gone through good times and tough times. But one thing always stayed the same. Us…

There has never been any doubt about us. Nothing comes between us. No amount of pressure will shake us. No amount of problems will break us. Everything makes us stronger because we know no matter what happens we are okay because we have us. The bad times make us stronger because it brings us closer. The good times makes us stronger because it brings us closer. Nothing can break what has no boundaries and no limitations. Us…

It’s amazing how we have been married for more than 15 years and it only gets better each day. I am amazed by knowing tomorrow will get even better even though I have no clue how it can get better than what we have today.

You know I struggle to tell you how I feel about her because words are just words… How I struggle to tell you how I love my wife.

Some say you should be friends to make it work. I don’t agree with that. We are best friends. I want to do everything with her and only her. It doesn’t matter whether it is watching rugby or going to the movies or exploring a new city or reading a new book. I just want to be next to her and share it with her. But I can’t be friends with her. Or rather… I can’t just be friends with her. She means more than that. She is everything. My friends and my lover. My world and my meaning.

And I don’t agree that you must “make it work”. Yes, you have to talk about things and share with each other. But it isn’t work. It’s just being. When you love someone totally and completely then it isn’t work. Work means thinking about it and planning it. Doing it because you love someone means you do it because it is the way it is. Naturally. Like breathing… You don’t think about it. You just do it because it is the way it is. Love is not planned. It just is.

That takes my breath away. Us. Because it just is…

Complete.