Up on the Roof

Last weekend I spent six hours underneath the bonnet (hood) of The Locomotive changing the water pump. Why? Because Pepboys quoted me $480 to do it - and I managed to get the whole task accomplished with a $40 part and a six-pack of Sam Adams.

Since then, my relationship with The Locomotive has changed somewhat. I've decided to give it a little more love. That's why today I did what I should have done two years ago, and refurbished the elegant vinyl roof. I'll post pictures of the completed project tomorrow - but I think this little procedure will make her look ten years younger.

Good Advice on Personal Branding

Somebody very smart gave me some good advice today.

You get to choose what your online identity is

I've written before about personal branding, and how what you put out into the Internet remains there for perpetuity; to return and bite you on the arse when you least expect it.

Whether it's Facebook, Twitter or a blog, the person-of-smartness I spoke to today reminded me that you should say nothing that you wouldn't say out loud, in public, in real life; even within the supposedly safe, pre-vetted community of your approved list of 'friends.'

One reason for this is professionalism. You could be bitching about something completely unrelated, but somebody you know could think you're talking about something you both work on and you could end up causing drama where none existed.

But, more importantly, bitching and moaning on Facebook or Twitter is bad because it says something about you. I'm a big believer in the Law of Attraction - that you attract what you project - and if you project bitchiness and snot, that's exactly what you'll receive - in abundance.

Being bitchy or snotty can be fun, cathartic and entertaining; but you don't want that to become your personal brand. You don't want to be the person your friends think of as synonymous with stomping their feet or throwing their toys out of the pram at the least provocation.

That kind of behavior might win you a lot of acquaintances who like to watch the entertainment you provide, but it won't win you much respect - or work.

These days, your social media persona has become almost as important as your real life persona - so make sure your online identity is one people want to be friends with; and do business with.

The Militant Ginger family

Mummy Militant, Mini Militant, Militant Ginger & Micro Militant

New Camera

Mummy Militant said we needed a new camera and acquiesced to my choice of make and model. Therefore I'm dutifully recording every moment of the Double Ms as they grow up; and inflicting it on my readers!

The camera is a Canon Powershot - you should check it out. The quality of the shots is amazing considering the price.

Anyway. Without further ado, ma famille;

Micro Militant, doing what he does best

Mini Militant insisted on wearing his Hawaiian shirt today

He's a little ham

Big Brother

I think as a parent you instinctively try to give your kid the same kind of experience as you had growing up; and it's kind of disconcerting when you realize you can't.

For Mini Militant, this means growing up in suburban New Jersey rather than the countryside of Hampshire, and being surrounded by roads and parks rather than sheep and German Shepherds.

But there are more significant differences as well. For example, Mini Militant is now a big brother. That's something I've never been, and it's pretty weird to think that Mini's whole outlook on life will be colored by that.

In that respect, I understand Micro Militant's situation a lot more - just as I was, he's the little ginger kid with the big brother. I wonder how that's going to pan out for him. I'll admit that I hero-worshiped my older brother growing up - he with the Bon Jovi hair and the tassly leather jacket that smelled of cigarettes and sweat - and still look up to him this day. We're starkly different people with different experiences and different values, but there's so much about him I respect and admire and love.

It's weird to think that Mini Militant will be that figure for Micro Militant; and in that respect, there's an aspect to his life that I've already no way of understanding. It's just further proof of probably the most surprising but inevitable part of becoming a parent is the realization that your kids are individuals in their own right - and not just extensions of yourself.

National IPA Day

August 4th isn't just President Obama's birthday (happy 50th, Barry!) It's also been chosen by a grassroots movement of beer lovers to be National I.P.A. Day.

India Pale Ale tends to be a rich amber

I.P.A., in case you were wondering, is a style of pale ale originally brewed in England during the 18th century, intended to be shipped overseas to the Indian colonies.

Because of the rigors of months of sea shipping, the beer needed to be very strong in alcohol, to preserve it, and rich in hops to maintain its flavor.

This light, but strong and flavorful beer soon found such favor in Britain that it never actually made it to its intended destination!

There are many India Pale Ales produced in England, but as I outlined in my controversial post Why American Beer is Superior to British Beer, its a style of brewing the yanks have truly made their own.

American I.P.A.s are brewed to appeal to an American palette - which requires a lighter, fizzier, more vibrant style of beer (closer to a lager than a bitter.) It's much easier and more enjoyable to drink.

In addition, because American beers tend to be served significantly colder (often only just above freezing) the amount of hops in the brew tend to be significantly higher so the flavor can penetrate the chill.

It gives brewers the opportunity to really create their own distinctive flavors and taste - from dry varieties like Dogfish Head 60 Minute IPA, to fresher, sweeter and more rounded ales like my personal favorite, Samuel Adams Latitude 48.

One popular brand is Stones Ruination IPA, so called because it "ruins" your palette for other beers. While this is true for Ruination, it's also pretty much the best way to describe anybody's experience of drinking American IPA. Once you've acquired a taste for this hoppy variety, any other beer seems kind of limp by comparison.

So happy (or hoppy) IPA Day! If you can, make sure you lift a glass of India Pale Ale in celebration!

Busy life, new blog, the usual suspects

Hello gang! I am so sorry for my extended absence. Life Chez Ginger has been a bit crazy with the arrival of Micro Militant and my continued quest to become the world's first redheaded billionaire.

One thing I've been pondering during my absence is this blog.

As I enter my fifth year of blogging, I realize that Militant Ginger - despite being fairly popular - is a blog lacking a clearly defined purpose.

It's my personal blog, a pro-redhead rant site, a location for book and movie reviews and a place to find my political ramblings. If my recent education in social media has taught me anything, it's that Militant Ginger is the antithesis of what a successful blog should be - focused.

Which is why I've decided to break off at least part of my blogging onto a sister site - The Exchange Coffee House. This is where I'll exclusively post my political rants; and attempt to generate more content from other rant-worthy pundits. Please go and check it out if you're interested.

In the mean time, I'm going to post more personal pictures and stories here, plus up the ante on the ginger nonsense that inspired this blog in the first place. You might see a facelift in the next few days; but all the content will remain in place and hopefully Militant Ginger will be better - and more focused - than ever.

Thanks for your patience - and check back soon!

Waiting for M

Hello fellow Militants!

I'm afraid things here at Militant Ginger central are a little slow at the moment. I'm sitting in a hospital room with Mummy Militant, awaiting the arrival of Micro Militant. So far s/he takes after Mummy by being resolutely late!

Normal service - if there ever was anything approaching that - will resume shortly.

Absent without Ginger

Hello my fellow Militants! Long time no see!

As loyal readers (Hi, Dad) might have noticed, I haven't updated this blog for over two weeks. I feel thoroughly rotten about that, but I have been so astonishingly, mind-numbingly busy that I simply haven't had a chance to.

Last week alone, I worked a 50-hour week at the office, did 20 hours of writing for one client and then 10 more for another.

This is on top of Mummy Militant being 9-months pregnant with the latest addition to the Militant brood - and I've got two new independent business ideas I'm working on.

It all sounds far more exciting than it actually is!

Regardless, I'm back now with a couple of blog posts I hope you'll think are worth the wait. Have you yelled at an opinionated ginger today?

Liberate Thyself

As conservatives start looking towards the 2012 election, the word "liberty" gets used a lot. But people forget that true liberty is taken, not given – and trying to "liberate" America from the ballot box is like trying to liberate Paris while still stuck in a German POW camp.

First, Americans have to liberate themselves.

As I wrote a few days ago, both the Republican and Democratic party work hard to create a culture of dependency. The first step towards "liberty" is to escape those shackles; and that's done at an individual level – not at a tea party rally. The first step towards collective liberty is individual freedom, and freedom means not being dependent on others.

To be free, you have to objectively examine your own life and identify areas in which you are dependent on others. For most Americans, these are most frequently work, wealth and health; but can extend to less tangible areas like happiness and satisfaction.

Work:

If there's one obvious area of dependence, it's our job. We are dependent on our jobs to pay our rent, supply our health care and give us our sense of purpose and identity. We might think that we're in an equitable relationship – receiving payment for services rendered – but far too often our jobs are little more than indentured servitude.

Think about it: Americans are working longer and longer hours than ever before – plus taking work home, even on vacation, thanks to smartphones and Blackberries.

Yet we're not receiving any more money for this increased workload. In fact, wages haven't gone up since 2000 (even though the cost of living has.) Americans put up with the increased pressure because they're scared of losing their jobs. Too many of us have become utterly dependent on our work.

The first step to liberty – to true liberty – is to stop being dependent on work. That doesn't mean to quit your job (but it doesn't mean not to, either.) It means to reexamine how you approach your employment and put yourself on a level footing with those who sign your paycheck.

Stop thinking of yourself as an employee – somebody who is lucky to have a job - and start thinking of yourself as an independent contractor instead: Somebody your employer lucky to have working with (not for) them. Cultivate the skills, experience and contacts you need to be a desirable talent; and make your job anxious to keep you, instead of being anxious to keep your job.

Or, even better, start planting the seeds of true financial independence. Find clients and side jobs so you have more than one source of income. Act like you're a business, not a worker. True independence is having the confidence to walk away from your current job and know you'll still be able to pay your rent. That is liberty worth fighting for.

Wealth:

For decades, they've been selling us on the American Dream – a big house, shiny car and all the gadgets a credit card can buy. The price of this dream, however, is slavery. If there's one dependency almost all Americans have, it's debt.

Whether we're talking credit card payments or a mortgage, most Americans are leveraged to the hilt. The bank might not literally own your ass; but it does own your car, your house, your TV and anything else you bought on credit.

All these shiny things Americans were desperate to own actually ended up owning them. How many thousands of dollars do you pour into interest payments each year?

True independence is not driving a car, or living in a house, or watching a TV that belongs to somebody else. Real freedom comes from buying a crappy car in cash, knowing that the car loan company can't repossess it. True liberty comes from knowing the bank can't foreclose on your house when the rate of your adjustable mortgage shoots up 300%.

Sadly, in modern America, there's only so much financial freedom many of us can aspire to. If it wasn't for mortgages or loans, many of us might never own a house, or even a car.

That being said, real liberty starts by not being enslaved by your possessions or your debts. Liberate yourself by living debt free whenever you can, however you can.

It might mean you don't have the latest shiny gadget, or biggest TV, or smartest car – but it also means that what meager possessions you do have you own outright. Nothing you buy with the somebody else's money ever truly belongs to you.

Health:

Health care costs in America are absurd, and millions of Americans are working jobs they hate simply because they cannot cover themselves or their families except through an employee-sponsored plan. This is perhaps the greatest indenture in America today – and one that's not within the power of most of us to solve. Liberty will only be achieved when Americans have access to truly affordable, truly portable health insurance.

But, in the mean time, there are things you can do to make yourself less enslaved by the shackles of the "free market" health care monopoly. You won't be able to cure yourself of cancer or diabetes, but the health benefits of regular exercise or losing weight are incredible.

When I moved to America, I was suffering from chronic acid reflux. I spent hundreds of dollars on over-the-counter medication, which would treat the problem - but never cure it. When I went on my diet and shed 30lbs, though, something amazing happened: My acid reflux stopped, and I've been pill-free ever since.

Same thing with my bad back and high blood pressure. What lifestyle changes can you make to improve your health? Make them, and keep your money instead of handing it over to drug companies that would keep you dependent on their pills and potions for the rest of your life.

Happiness & Satisfaction

Millions of Americans are miserable because they won't take responsibility for their emotions. They allow their mood – happy or sad, satisfied or needy – to be defined by the behavior of other people. They make expectations of how other people should act and then get huffy when those people fail to meet those expectations.

This is absurd, and true emotional slavery. If your mood is dependent on another person acting a certain way (and often without them even being told about how you want them to act in the first place) then your chances for lasting happiness are nilch.

The only actions and behavior you can control are your own; and emotional freedom comes from accepting that you have no power over the behavior of other people. Therefore, you shouldn't let your mood be dependent on what they do. Only when their actions directly influence your life should you grant them any power over your emotions at all; and even then, only grudgingly.

That's an excellent personal philosophy, and it's also true in the political sphere.

Think of all the ways in which people make themselves miserable because of the way other people behave; even though such behavior doesn't effect them.

Some real life examples from the headlines? Same sex couples wanting to get married, religious parents wanting to homeschool their kids – even fetish groups hosting a private party in a reserved hotel.

It seems even though these are decisions being made by adults which have no impact on anybody else, everybody expects and demands their say in them.

Perhaps the truest form of liberty is to untangle yourself from matters which don't concern you.

If two men you'll never meet want to get married in a state you don't even live in; let them.

As long as they're not abusing them, let parents raise their own kids exactly how they see fit.

As long as they're all consenting adults, and it's done behind closed doors, let hotels host invitiation-only, "naughty" parties all year round.

Give strangers power over your emotions, and you give strangers power over you. Deny them that power and you become that much more free as a result.

Liberate thyself

The desire for American liberty is an honorable one; steeped in the same spirit which founded this great country over two centuries ago.

However, nobody can aspire to that freedom until they become free themselves. One of the reasons the tea party movement has become so popular in America is because so many people identify that they're shackled and enslaved; but how much of that can they blame on the government, and how much should they accept responsibility for themselves?

If you're in debt or on welfare, or working a job you hate to pay the bills, or enraged at gay marriage, perhaps you're the one who needs to change – not America.

This is the land of opportunity and there are a million opportunities to free yourself from whatever is holding you back. That's not the job of the government, nor is it the job of anybody else. Take responsibility for yourself and you become master of your own destiny.

You have to remember that eternal truth – freedom is taken, not given.

No mayor, or congressman, or senator or president will ever truly grant you 'freedom' - you have to do that for yourself.

Then, only when you've throw off all the chains of personal dependence and become a truly free individual, can you come together with other individuals to achieve what liberties you couldn't on your own.

Mummy Militant Month on Militant Ginger, Part The Second

Antoine de Saint-Exupery wrote:

"Love does not consist of looking at each other, but looking together in the same direction."

I kind of feel that's why Mummy Militant and I work so well together.

Because for all our differences, there's one significant similarity we both share – uniqueness.

Okay, "uniqueness" might just be another word for "eccentricity," but you get my drift.

Mummy Militant's father describes her as "a horse of a different color" because she's always stood out from the rest of the herd.

It's not just in the way she dresses, or the music she listens to, or the books she reads. It's also in the way she acts. Mummy Militant is radically unique because she refuses to behave the way society pressures her to.

Now, I've always been a bit like that too – but unlike Mummy Militant, I can't take any credit for it.

I became the willfully eccentric individual I am today because I never fit in growing up. The combination of ginger hair and Britain's retarded attitude towards it meant that I was always the kid who stood out; and since I was never going to be part of the crowd, I never felt the pressure to fit in with it.

I know I complain about growing up ginger a lot, but perhaps it was the greatest gift I could ever have had. If I'd been born with boring old brown or black hair, perhaps I'd have ended up getting enveloped into the cult of mediocrity which seems to personify so much of British society.

But, as I said, I can't take any credit for being eccentric. It just happened to me.

Mummy Militant, on the other hand, could have fitted in with the crowd effortlessly if she'd chosen to. You look at pictures of her from high school and college and you'll see a startlingly beautiful young lady who would have made a top-tier Long Island princess if she'd chosen to. But she didn't.

Instead, she chose to take her own path in everything that she did. She dressed differently. She spoke differently. Perhaps, most noticeably of all, she behaved differently. She still does today.

She walked the difficult path of not-quite-fitting-in, even when an easier option was available to her. That shows such an incredible inner strength and personal vision that I'm quite frankly in awe of; even after eight years together.

Mummy Militant is as willfully eccentric as I am; and we're both on the outside of conformity looking in.

That's the "looking together in the same direction" that Saint-Exupery spoke of, and the reason why we work so well together. We're both on the same wavelength (and it's not the station most people are tuned into.)

But Mummy Militant's uniqueness extends far beyond mine. She humbles me every day in the steps she'll take off the beaten path.

The most notable examples of her eccentricity show themselves what she does for others.

Mummy Militant would, quite literally, give a stranger the shirt off her back. I think one of the reasons she's never quite fitted in – and why regular, mundane people sometimes treat her with suspicion – is because she's willing to perform acts of kindness and charity that make us feel bad about ourselves.

But that, from my perspective, is just more of a reason to love her.

Mummy Militant Month on Militant Ginger, Part The First

If anybody has been keeping up with the news, the word "Weiner" should be on their lips.

Because New York Representative Anthony Weiner is currently in the spotlight for his "inappropriate" behavior online with several wanton women. He's sent saucy pics and salacious messages to a number of ladies and now the scandal's in the open, this Weiner is getting roasted.

Weiner's saga, though, should be a lesson to many of us. Here is a man not guilty of any actual infidelity (that we currently know of, watch this space) but just caught being a weiner (no pun intended) online. The angle most people are focusing on is: How could he do this to his wife?

And I mean, seriously. How could he? He's married to perhaps the hottest Democratic woman in politics (which is admittedly a small field) Huma Abedin.

Tall, tanned, educated and enlightened, she easily eclipses any of the woman Weiner had an online dalliance with. Why was he munching on 99c burgers, if you'll excuse the clumsy metaphor, when there was prime rib waiting for him at home?

Well, I don't know the answer to that question - but I do know this: There are literally thousands of men who have Huma Abedin's waiting for them at home and they don't give them the love and appreciation they deserve.

They might not be sending crotch-shots of themselves to random porn stars (as Weiner did), but there are American men in all fifty states who are married to amazing, beautiful, brilliant women and simply take them for granted.

If the Anthony Weiner scandal taught me anything, it's that I might be one of them.

Because as soon as I saw Huma Abedin's imposing profile in pictures, it made me think of my own Mummy Militant; who shares her olive skin, luxurious black hair and photogenic features. After nearly eight years of marriage, I was suddenly aware that maybe I take her for granted; and that's unforgivable.

Mummy Militant with a pony. Because we all love ponies.

I might not be sending bulging crotch-shots of myself to anybody, but perhaps I am guilty of coming home each night and treating Mummy Militant more like a roommate than a life-partner, and more like a partner-in-crime than somebody who is bearing the second of my children (and the nearly eighth year of my collective bullshit.)

So for the next four weeks, I've decided to dedicate a post a week to the woman who inspires, indulges, teaches and tolerates me - Mummy Militant.

Because for all my sins, and after all these years, I still think she's amazing. There is still not one single day in which I don't come home, gaze into those big brown eyes and think: "Wow."

A fairy-tale romance - if fairy tales included skullduggery, handcuffs, deportation, pirates, sports cars, dachshunds, Pontiac Firebirds and rum.

I don't think a week has gone past in the last eight years in which she hasn't done something that's totally knocked my socks off - constantly challenging any and all limitations I foolishly imagined she might have.

She's incredible. She's amazing. And, quite frankly, I'd be one hell of a Weiner if I didn't spend a few days this month acknowledging that fact.

Life in the Fast Lane

This picture has nothing to do with this post whatsoever. But it's pretty cool, right?

I am having a very weird time with life at the moment. I honestly feel like I'm on the same learning level as Mini-Militant right now - I keep discovering new and exciting things that totally rock every paradigm I've built myself of the course of the last three decades. It's like being a toddler again - learning things every second.

I'm excited to get out of bed each day, because I know that I'll go to bed knowing more than I did when I got up. The frustrating thing is being balanced on the knife-edge of actually putting that knowledge to productive use.

And that's really the thing, isn't it? Knowledge is useless unless you use it.

Perhaps the most important thing I've learned is that the catalyst for progress is action. Bold actions are rewarded or punished perhaps no more richly or harshly than patient waiting; but you reach that conclusion a lot faster. It allows you to compress your opportunities into a shorter time frame; and hopefully reap the benefits that much faster.

This week, I am going to embrace the bold. I'll let you know on Friday how it worked out for me.

Why don't you do the same? Do something that takes you out of your comfort zone. Test yourself, and your nerves. You shouldn't be dumb, or reckless - boldness has nothing to do with stupidity or needless danger. But boldness does have something to do with courage, and calculated risk.

Boldness, I have come to believe, is the first step beyond mediocrity - and mediocrity is one personal paradigm I refuse to have any more tolerance for.

Disappeared!

Mini Militant and I are on the road to... somewhere good!

I'm so sorry to have abandoned this blog for such a long time. Normally I've highly motivated to post on Militant Ginger at least once a day - but life has gotten ahead of me a little in the last few weeks and I've had to let it get shifted onto the back burner.

When it comes to bloggers, I've always had the theory that the less they blog, they more they're actually doing in real life. That was certainly true in my case. My personal writing projects have exploded; and that extra work fell simultaneous to a mammoth extra effort at my day job which saw me working 70+ hour weeks. Throw in a sick kid and time suddenly had a distressing habit of disappearing far too fast.

It was good, though. Sadly I still find myself one of those people who does their best work on a deadline. It's a great way of inspiring you - forcing you - to prioritize.

And it made me prioritize at home as well, and start really thinking about what I want out of life; and how I can go about achieving it. One thing I realized is that I'm never going to be happy - and never going to be rich - working for somebody else. That's why I've decided to throw myself into creating my own little business empire with abandon.

Early days yet, but I set myself a goal in March and one of the reasons I never seemed to blog is because I spent so many hours actually achieving it.

For April, I've doubled that goal - with the wildly ambitious thought of doubling my independent income each month from here-on-in. The really crazy thing - the truly frightening thing - is that such lofty goals actually appear to be achievable.

Whether or not I'll achieve them is yet to be seen.

But therein perhaps lies the thing that I've always found most exciting about America; opportunity. It seems that "impossible" is only a limit people set for themselves here. This month saw me lay out my opportunities on the table like Tarot cards - and realized that the lofty goal I set for myself was only lofty in my own estimation.

This country really is a place where anybody can achieve anything, if they put their mind to it. That actual putting of the mind isn't easy; but if you can swing it, you're going to win no matter what. It's a dramatic difference to the attitude in England; where you're relegated to your socioeconomic "box" practically at birth and it's considered wildly gauche to ever have aspirations beyond it.

No, this month I realized the opposite. That my dreams were out there for the taking; and I took a lofty step towards grabbing them. From this point on, any shortfall is mine and mine alone; you can't blame it on your upbringing, your parents, your education or anything else.

It's an exciting time; like walking a tightrope with no safety net. That means that although I seem to have even less free time than ever, I should make more of a concerted effort to blog than ever before. Because perhaps, finally, I'm on a chapter of my life worth reading about.

Off to Rioja

This week, I'll be accompanying the amazing folks over at Wine Portfolio to La Rioja, to explore the wine industry there, visit some local bodegas and even go hot air ballooning (how steampunk!)

Of course, it's absurdly exciting - and I'll hope to keep you informed every step of the way! If I don't post here, you can see what the Wine Portfolio crew is doing live by following them on Twitter or 'liking' their Facebook page.

Logrono - La Rioja's capital city

Snow Day

Global warming skeptics might have me convinced... If the world really is heating up, there's certainly been no sign of it in my neck of the woods.

This morning was another snow day - with this awaiting me when the sun went up:


That's bad enough - but the snow was so thick, I couldn't even get to the driveway until I'd shoveled out my front door!


Halfway down the driveway - here's a picture of me looking seriously unimpressed. At least I didn't have to go to the gym that morning, though!

An hour in, and The Locomotive's status was largely unchanged from earlier.

The previous night's snow had been mixed with rain and thunder (something the meterologists out here are calling "thundersnow"). While that sounds very cool, it basically meant that the snow was brick-like and icy, rather than the soft, powdery stuff we're used to.

Eventually, however - VICTORY!

And I'm happy to say that The Locomotive cranked first time, and handled the snow like a trooper. Say what you want about rear-wheel drive cars; but when those boys in Flint, Michigan built mine, they'd obviously anticipated tackling the odd snow storm.

The Great American Ginger

I started writing this blog roughly when I visited the United States Embassy in London for the umpteenth time, to get fingerprinted for my Visa to live in the United States.

It was almost a year until that came to pass – and it seemed like an eternity.

By comparison, the three years I've spent living in America have whizzed by. It's seemed like the blink of an eye since I went from fresh-off-the-boat immigrant to finding myself eligible to take that final step and actually become an American.

Please excuse dated, cheesy photo - it's the only vaguely 'American' one I have... as of yet!

And that's what happened yesterday - I became a citizen of this great nation.

When the possibility of becoming a naturalized American came about, there was never any doubt in my mind that I'd take it.

I don't mean any disloyalty to the country of my birth (I love Britain, as long as I don't have to live there) but ever since I was a teenager I've been infected with the delirious, intangible possibilities of the American dream and surely there is no greater embrace of that dream than to become the very fabric of the 'melting pot' that the United States is woven from.

Considering what a momentous occasion my citizenship should have been, it's didn't exactly start auspiciously. Last night, New Jersey was hit with one of those curious freaks of meteorology that leave us more temperate Brits baffled – we had a night of driving rain, icy sleet and freezing temperatures. When I got up a 5am, I wasn't shoveling snow off the Lincoln – I was sliding great big sheets of ice from the bonnet.

Likewise, a 20-minute trip to Newark took an hour and a half – and when I finally got there, half the parking lots were skating rinks without attendants in attendance. At least that meant I could find parking just around the corner.

Naturalization is a far simpler process than you might think. You sit in a big waiting room – like a well-appointed DMV – and are called for your 'interview.' In it, an officer will examine your paperwork and test your English skills and knowledge of America. One of my tasks was to read aloud the sentence: "Which is the largest U.S. State?" I read that, then quickly responded: "Alaska!" Very good, my officer told me, but that wasn't actually on the test.

What was on the test was fairly straightforward:

What is the national anthem of America, who is the vice-president, etc.

I admit I fluffed one: I was asked: "Who does a senator represent?" and I answered "the state" when the correct answer was "the people of the state." I got my own back, though. When asked which war President Eisenhower had served in, the officer had to look up in her book to check that I had the correct answer (which, of course, I had.)

Then there was the waiting – about five hours in all. It wasn't that bad – I brought a book (a biography of Benjamin Franklin, no less, which I was sure would nominate me for fast-track processing) and before I knew it, we were being gathered into an auditorium for our oath ceremony.

Funnily enough, the first thing that stuck me was the fact that we were on the 15th floor of the only tower block in downtown Newark, so the view of snow-covered New Jersey was spectacular. Secondly, I noticed that cardboard cut-outs of Barack and Michelle Obama were overlooking the proceedings.

The ceremony started off with a 15-minute lecture about not laminating our certificate of naturalization, and keeping our cell-phones switched off.

Then we watched a five minute video of Barack Obama welcoming us as American citizens – and that was truly moving.

People bad mouth him all the time – myself included – but this was one moment in which I remembered why I will always consider Obama 'my' president. He was the first president I actively campaigned for, he was the first president who fulfilled any of the campaign pledges that were important to me and, finally, he was the president who welcomed me to America as a citizen (and, as he specifically noted, an equal.)

Obama and I are now considered equals. He still hasn't lent me the keys to The Beast yet, though

The pledge followed, which was awkward. There was a glorious melting pot of nationalities present and I was one of maybe three who spoke English fluently. Therefore, we went through each line of the oath painstakingly slowly:

"I hereby…"

"…declare…"

"…on oath…"

"…that I…."

"…absolutely…"

"…and…."

"…entirely…"

That wasn't as bad as the next bit – in which we were asked to sing along to a video of "God Bless the U.S.A.," performed in a classic karaoke style. Sadly nobody at the ceremony had been fed shots of tequila beforehand, so our performances were lackluster, to say the least. We all sat there murmuring like teenagers in church.

This song has been stuck in my head since then.

But for all my cynicism, it was an incredibly moving occasion to be a part of.

My only disappointment was that I somehow expected to feel different when I emerged from that room as an American citizen – but the fact that I didn't perhaps suggests I'd been American inside for far longer than the federal government had acknowledged.

But now it was official – for myself, and for the hundred or so other immigrants taking the oath with me. We were given a book at the ceremony – The Citizen's Almanac – which related how leaders from Washington to Reagan and beyond have stressed that each new immigrant and each new culture just adds to our own – and diminishes nothing from American society. It was amazing to think that I was now part of that society, along with all the others in the room.

One thing that was interesting was the demographic of my oath ceremony. Currently there's a huge backlash in America about the 'Mexican tidal wave' and the number of Hispanic immigrants coming to this country. If my ceremony was anything to go by, it turns out that we have nothing to worry about – there weren't that many Spanish people in the room.

In fact, if there was a discernible majority amongst us immigrants, it was a tie between Indians and Asians. It truly was a cultural and racial melting pot - and all the better for it.

So now here I am – an American at last. A journey I first set forth on almost a decade ago has reached it's conclusion… Or has it?

I first started dreaming of living in New York when my father gave me my first Saint novel, The Saint in New York. Since then, I've actually managed to cross the Atlantic, establish a family in this great nation and start a whole new life in America. But that was just the first chapter of this book… Now it's time for me to start thinking of what happens next.

And that, my friends, will be a whole new adventure! Hopefully, you'll follow me along for the ride.

Mini Militant joins the A-Team

Fortunately for me, originality is currently dead in Hollywood, and all the toys and series I was crazy about when I was a kid have returned to the silver screen. One of the latest was the A-Team (which you can read my review of here.)

Vans: Not just for Soccer-Moms

This means that I get to live vicariously through Mini-Militant and buy him all the toys I had or wanted when I was a kid - like the A-Team van, which I picked up for him on clearance.

In my day, vans were cool.

In many ways, modern toys are much cooler than old ones. The molding is more precise, so the toys really resemble the vehicles or characters they're copying. They also have all sorts of cool electronic sounds and lights.

But toys from my generation were built like cars from my generation - to last. Within minutes of opening the box, Mini-Militant's new A-Team van had lost the sliding door and the headlights. It took some gaffer tape and glue to get the iconic vehicle in shape for combat.

Mini-Militant loves it, though - which I love, since it means we have something in common. Currently, the van is zooming back and forth down the kitchen tiles and it's nice to see the old 'gal back in action.

Is Britain 'freer' than America?

Straight Shooting Luke Smitherd - there's no man deadlier with a set of Harrows Aliens

The other day, my friend and deadly darts ace Straight Shooting Luke Smitherd left a really interesting comment on this post:

"My plan/dream is to move to the states in the next two years. But more and more I hear about an increasing conservative culture over there and it really makes me rethink it."

"I wouldn't say I was a liberal, I just believe in people's individual freedoms to live whatever lifestyle they want and believe in whatever they choose. I thought America would be a place where I could thinks and act more freely and get away from English cynicism and reservedness; but it's starting to look like it's more oppressive in other ways."

"I want to get say from small minded idiots, not find a load more."

It was interesting because it's my earnest belief that America remains far freer than Britain in all sorts of ways.

Obviously, part of this is because I live in New York – which is one of the most liberal parts of the country. However, all across America there are so many ways in which the US grants you more freedoms than back home in Britain.

It's difficult to list them all – but here are a few.

America is more open-minded.

The United States doesn't have a great international reputation when it comes to racism and homophobia – but most of the negative stuff is undeserved.

This is because America is infinitely more diverse than England – where the population is generally white and Christian. As a result, most people over here are actually a lot less judgmental than Brits would be. When you meet an American, you can't take anything about them for granted – their religion, political affiliation, race or class.

For that reason, Americans are genuinely open-minded and curious when they meet new people, whereas in England they automatically make a shopping list of assumptions based on how somebody looks, dresses and (worse of all) talks.

"It's impossible for an Englishman to open his mouth without making some other Englishman despise him," the old saying goes – and it's true.

For example, I speak with a Received Pronunciation Accent (the Queen's English) and therefore am assumed to be a posh public schoolboy by all who meet me (despite the fact I went to comprehensive and grew up on a farm.)

We seem to have an inbuilt snobbery, us Brits, which means we're instantly peering down, or resentfully peering up, at those we think feel they are 'beneath' or 'above us.' (It's never about whether we feel they're beneath us or above us - it's how we assume they feel about us.)

And while you'll here horror stories from America – the Westboro Baptist Church picketing funerals with signs that read "God Hates Fags" and inner city kids becoming the victim of race-fueled violence – the statistics actually show that Britain has it worse for 'hate crimes' based on race or sexuality.

In the past year, hate crimes grew by 12% in the UK, and just 7% in America – and much of that was fueled by redefining 'hate crimes' to include people targeted because of their sexuality.

For me, the benefit of America being more open-minded is that they don't bat an eyelid at the crazy shit I do. Sometimes, I dress in a Victorian waistcoat, and I drive a gas-guzzling classic car. In Britain, people had a tendency to shake their heads at my 'odd' behavior (we love conformity, us Brits) whereas in America it's not just tolerated, but cherished.

(I can also walk down the street without somebody yelling 'ginger!' at me – which occurred daily back in Blighty!)

I feel more 'free' in America because I really do have the freedom to be myself without feeling like I'm under the microscope, which (whether it's true or not) I often did in England.

America protects more freedoms.

We Brits watch too much American TV.

This is why we have the mistaken impression that we enjoy many of the same freedoms as Americans boast about in their touted 'Bill of Rights.' The fact is, however, that we don't.

• We don't have true freedom of expression – just ask talk radio host Michael Savage, or Freedom Party MP Geert Wilders, who were both banned from entering the country for criticizing Islam. Just talk to spanking model Pandora Blake, who has found that the soft-core spanking videos she makes could be defined as 'extreme porn' by very loosely-worded legislation recently passed by parliament. Daft politicians are even trying to put the perennial Page 3 girl out of a job. Even worse than the legal wrangling is the frankly pathetic culture of conformist, 'political correct' fascism that tries to muzzle dissenting opinion – something we're all complicit in.
• We don't have true freedom of religion – just ask two Christian missionaries, who were threatened with arrest for handing out leaflets in a predominately Muslim part of town. In fact, we have an 'established' religion – the Church of England – which is the opposite to America (which, contrary to popular opinion, is a secular nation.)
• We don't have the freedom to bear arms – whether you believe in gun control or not, you can't deny that the right to own a gun is a freedom. That covenant is sacred to American society – a bond of trust between the government (that assumes – occasionally incorrectly – that people are responsible enough to own guns) and the people (who own guns so that their government can never overreach their authority, as the British forces did during the American revolution.) I'm not a big fan of guns, but I appreciate the sentiment that we, as individuals, are assumed to be smart enough to safely and responsibly look after a deadly weapon. In Britain, it's assumed we're too stupid and irresponsible, so the only handguns are carried by criminals.
• We don't have the freedom from self-incrimination – the Fifth Amendment in America establishes the right not to incriminate yourself, by remaining silent if arrested. In Britain, the process of arrest was changed in the 90s to basically establish 'silence' as inferring guilt – and the European Court of Human Rights declared "The court did not accept that the right to remain silent and the right not to incriminate oneself were absolute rights." Such a ruling would be unthinkable in America.
• Most notably, we don't have the freedoms protected by the Ninth Amendment of the American Constitution: Protection of rights not specifically enumerated in the Constitution. This basically establishes that just because the founding fathers hadn't thought of a particular right as being sacred back in the 1790s, it didn't mean it wasn't a protected, sacred right. A good example is the right not to be discriminated against because of your sexuality, which would have never crossed James Madison's mind when he penned the Bill of Rights.

The fact is, legally, we enjoy many, many rights that Europeans and Brits don’t. We Brits don't seem to realize this sometimes, but it's absolutely true.

And finally, in America you can do anything.

If you put your mind to it, that is.

In Britain there is, as Luke eloquently put it, a certain "English cynicism and reservedness."

We are a culture that elevates people to a certain level (the likes of Jade Goody, for example) but swiftly turns on them if they get too big for their boots.

It's not just Prince Charles who believes Brits should 'know their place' in the social hierarchy. Those who are successful and raise themselves on the socio-economic ladder are often dismissed as nouveau riche - while many middle class idiots still speak with affected regional accents and boast of their 'working class roots' even though they drive Audis and live in the suburbs.

In America, conversely, two things are different.

For a start, people value hard work. From the waitress in a café to the guy stocking shelves in the supermarket, nobody is looked down upon for working hard. Warren Buffett and a janitor could share the same elevator and the richest man in the world would not think himself superior to a man on minimum wage.

I discovered this when I first moved to America, and got a job waiting tables to make ends meet. I was dreading it – stupidly imagining myself to be 'above' ferrying food back and forth. Yet nobody looked down on me, thought less of me or mocked me. It taught me a valuable lesson in both humility and pride, if that's possible.

Secondly, people admire the successful.

If you pull yourself up by your bootstraps and become a millionaire despite the odds, Americans don't look at you as nouveau riche or complain that you've developed 'airs and graces' or forgotten where your roots are.

They think "good for him" and try and follow your example.

This also ties into my first point – about Americans being open-minded and not making assumptions about people they meet. This is because the guy in the ten-year-old Lincoln Town Car with the scuffed shoes could be the richest guy in the world (in fact, it's a description of Warren Buffett.) People assume money defines you in America. In fact, it's hard work –which is one of the reasons we suffer under such a brutal work schedule.

There are more freedoms I could list – I'm sure I'll think of a million of them when I'm driving into work next. However, those are just some of the more obvious – and I'm thankful every day for them.

I really, really hope Luke gets the chance to move to America one day, because I am certain he'll love it here.

He's smart, ambitious and charming and has everything needed to succeed here. What's more, Luke is a real character (when I worked with him, my colleagues would joke that he's the only guy they knew who made me look normal!)

In America, I think he'd find himself feeling more open and comfortable about being himself than he ever could in England.

I know I certainly did!

Resolutions

The life of a writer is not dangerous, exciting or glamorous [unless you write it that way - Editorial Bear] but it does give you some wonderful opportunities to learn all sorts of completely random crap about completely random things.

Like New Year's Resolutions, for example - I was writing some New Year-related copy this weekend and discovered some interesting facts about this age-old institution:

Like, for example, that 78% of Americans make at least one New Year's Resolution - but only 12% keep it.

And researchers in Florida have discovered that willpower - the required force to give up alcohol, junk food or cigarettes in the New Year - is a finite resource. Apparently resisting temptation actually burns calories - so going on a diet makes you increasingly likely to break it.

This year, I didn't give much thought to resolutions.

In all honesty, 2010 was one of the best years of my life from a personal perspective. People may wonder why I say that - it wasn't a year a child was born, or I got to see my parents again, or won the lottery or traveled to any exotic places... Yet from a personal perspective - from growing and evolving as a human being - it was one of the most productive years of my life. I certainly liked and had a lot more respect for the person I was leaving 2010 than the person I was entering it.

That being said, I have decided to make a few resolutions. Nothing as trite as 'losing weight' (since I've been barking up that horse for the last two years*) but more along the lines of behavioral things I'd like to try and adopt.

Like, for example:

• Grasp Every Opportunity: The great military general Sun Tzu once said: "Opportunities multiply as you seize them." Since I read that, I've discovered it to be true. Maybe it's because nature abhors a vacuum (sorry, Mr. Dyson) but when you take an opportunity that's presented to you, you create a kind of 'opportunity vacancy' and another one of equal or greater value pops up to fill the space. I've decided to take every opportunity I get from now on - and generate plenty more as a result.
  
• Finish What I Start: If wishes were horses**, I'd have a stud farm. I have so many brilliant ideas for things and projects and stuff. The problem is, I never act on them - or, if I do, I never see them through. I have this crazy suspicion that the secret to achieving all my ambitions is as simple as actually seeing one or some of my crazy ideas through to conclusion. This is the year I'm going to make it happen - you just watch!

I have other less esoteric resolutions for the New Year, of course. I want to get debt free in 2011 (not easy, given Mummy Militant's student loans, but achievable.) I want to continue all that good work I did last year and continue going to the gym 5 or 6 times a week. I want to see my parents again, I want my brother to meet his nephew, I want to get my Internet properties generating money.

I have lots of wants - but I have this funny feeling that the key to achieving them is to simply follow those two rules I outlined above.

If 2010 taught me anything, it's that the world is out there for the taking. If I want 2011 to 'give' me anything, it's simply the gumption to go out there and grab what I want.

Let's get started!


* Can one 'bark up a horse'? Can one? Really? - Kitty Copy Editor
** What's with the horse metaphors? - Kitty Copy Editor