For those which are curious as to a H-town, birthday this is how it broke down.
I woke up to homemade chocolate cake (which L could get all ingredients of locally), a bottle of prosecco (imported on the sly from Dubai) and one of those happy birthday stringers (imported openly from Nairobi). This was served on a tray which we mostly use to take our 24-hour security detail tea in late in the evenings sitting on a low stool I mainly use as an otomon (made from raw camel leather tied to unfinished wood).
My staff came in early to wish me happy birthday, but also to continue our two day marathon security planning for possible al-qaeda attacks which will be targeted against....well, we're not quite sure who is the target or whether they are even possible to attack anything. But nevertheless, we are forced to plan for it.
A some point in the day, I have been offered a massage. The offeror's hands had, five mintues before the offer, been hydro-peroxide-and-q-tiping a cat's ass. Literally.
This evening we will attend a BBQ which will likely be of a local goat or lamb variety. There will be other food there - mostly imported from Dubai where all of our delicies arrive from. The drinks will be supported by many attendees (booze potlucks being the operative social norm), as well as a couple of cases of bad beer (which L likes) imported in Land Cruisers driving over dirt roads from neighboring Ethiopia. There will be music which will be from someone's iPod amplified by whosever computer speakers are closest.
The four of us in my house (L and I and our roomates - a Swedish former-rugby-player, current-governance-sector-ngo-worker and his American wife current-schoolteacher) will drive 30 minutes to the other side of town dodging, goats, random children who don't look both ways, potholes the size of Orlando, al-Qeada operatives, chickens, donkeys pulling the only source of water for many, men sitting quietly together in open-air teashops listening to BBC, and likely a few crazy homeless people. The Swede, who will likely be driving (a consequence of my prepartying which will result in the violation of above stated social norm) will squint and be blinded multiple times due to the unlit roads throughout town.
Tomorrow we will arise late as it is my one day a week off. All in all, one of my favorites.
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Highlands and I got hitched.
This page will have some of the highlights.
Big_head had the first performance.
Highland's_Bro had the second performance.
The first round of pictures, taken by my father, are here.
Another round of pictures, taken by Lance / my mom, are here.
Other pictures for facebookers. From Karen; From Alex.
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"Things are moving so fast in race relations a Negro could be president in 40 years. There's no question about it. In the next 40 years, a Negro can achieve the same position that my brother has. . . . But we have tried to make progress and we are making progress. . . . We are not going to accept the status quo."
~ Bobby Kennedy, Editorial in the Washington Post, May, 27, 1968
When I was in elementary school both of my parents worked and my younger brother and I used to ride our bikes to school. It being Florida, I promise not to turn this into a in the snow, uphill both-ways story. I remember looking at the signs over the years as the cycle eventually became faster and shorter. Each November they would be there, demanding/requesting/mandating/asking for my vote for School Board or County Commissioner or Water Commissioner. Other than being annoyed that they would often clip my legs, I wasn't bothered that they were there. I liked that fact that adults would be milling about the school because it usually meant that we had longer recesses.
And that was really similar to how I felt about politics for a long time. For much of the time where I would have a say in who became Water Commissioner I spent more time thinking than acting. I found it to be extraordinarily difficult and an extremely long journey to finally settle on what I felt my political philosophy truly was. Humans being social creatures, cultural conditioning is a difficult thing to avoid and determining what I truly felt in a vacuum was difficult.
This was the first election that I entered where I felt a strong notion of myself. Views on foreign policy, economic policy, constitutionalism, and the role of government now could really be discussed. I felt empowered that I had finally be able to solidify some modicum of a baseline worldview, while being open for that to change and flex over time and experience. I had finally reached a point in my development where I was able to understand possible, probably and unlikely consequences of specific policy choices, and where I was able to foresee balances and tensions in ideas and what that would mean to different demographics and spectra of societies.
I did not vote in the primary. Still voting in Florida, and being a registered Democrat, it mattered not what I did and so I did not waste my time. But I had decided, were my voice asked for, who I would have voted for. I made this decision based upon pure policy alignment. I was not interested in delivery, or persona, or groundgame. I was interested in reading. I screamed at my television more times than my roommate could probably stand for candidates to wonk out, more, more, more. Like a kid with a new toy, I wanted to hear more of their thinking so that I could dive deeper into the rabbit hole.
My turn came in the general election. And it was not easy. I had prearranged for my absentee ballot to be sent to my father's house. Surprisingly, I made a last minute trip to Europe in order to get a visa so that I can marry in the UK next year. After coordinating plane flights, I asked that my ballot be sent to my girlfriend's place in Holland.
I was away from the house when the first delivery attempt was made. On the package slip it said that there was some money due and that the package was 8 kg. It seemed odd at first, until I thought that my parents had likely stuck in my Xmas presents.
I was also away from the house when the second delivery attempt was made. I was up in Amsterdam getting said visa. By now I had developed bronchitis and a sinus infection.
I was at home when the third delivery attempt was made. This was the day before I was to leave to return to H-town. But I never heard the door bell. Finally I went downstairs and saw the damn delivery slip. After some investigation I realized that the door bell in our house didn't work. Which is why my girlfriend a couple of days earlier when I was in bed had to rise me on the phone.
When I called the number I was stunned. I had to go across the country. Literally to get the damn package. So they said it would be ready for me to pick up at a given time. So I hopped on for a 45 minute train ride (across the country in Holland is that far), followed by a 20 minute metro ride, a 10 minute tram ride, and a 2 mile walk in the now dark, freezing, coughing, sinuses clogged, abandoned, have-to-piss Rotterdam dockyard. Finally I was about to give up. And instead I found a bush. After being able to think again I walked a little further and saw the stupid brown sign. After another 45 minutes of hassling with Dutch people, and 50 euros, I had my package so I began the reverse trudge of 2 miles, followed by a 10 minute wait at a tram station which wasn't running because of an accident, followed by another 2 mile walk, followed by a 20 minute metro ride, and a 45 minute train ride back home. The next morning before I left I filled out the ballot and dropped it off at the American Embassy on my way to Amsterdam.
It was a challenge to vote. But it wasn't nearly the challenges that others in history have had. I have fought for, literally, the right to vote. This was small potatoes. And here's the kicker. I would have done it had he been a muslim. I would have done it had he been William Ayers best friend. I would have done it had his emblem been a red background with yellow stars. I would have done it because I believe that he is a transformative figure in two particular related areas. His ability to discuss complexities and his ability to create an environment of rationed discussion are what I admire most about him. Sure there is a policy alignment. Sure there is the style, and look, the voice, the rhetoric. Sure there is the belief, the hope, the liberal utopian twinge in my heart. But none of those made my cough my way to the docks. It was the fact that I value an actual discussion about what matters rather than some idiotic discussion of a washed up terorrist that no one in my generation remembers or cares about. It was the fact that I value someone who is willing to lay out the tensions and why a specific avenue was chosen rather than some idiotic notion of dissent = unpatriotic. This is what pushed me over. This is what I've valued.
That is why I voted for Barack Obama.
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