Totally Tubular

Our car was in the shop with a bad speed sensor in the antilock brakes. Normally this would not be a big deal, except the speedometer simply does not work. In true BMW fashion, it is an intermittent problem. I tossed Sjur's tubular tires on fixed gear number two and rode it to the auto shop for a test ride. Before leaving I thought I would top off the air. At first I thought the pump was not working, until I realized that Sjur had already pumped them up to some insane pressure-- likely beyond what my gauge could handle. The other night I replaced the bent chainring with a straight 42T. I ran a 17T cog in the rear. It was very easy to spin out, but riding up hills was noticeably easier. I don't know that this would be an everyday setup, but it is certainly more useful than my 14 that has seen no use since moving--- or even the 15.

I dropped the bike off at home-- it was raining again. I took Julian to the hardware store to return the torch, then stopped by the bike shop with my rough Campy/Fir wheel that I was rebuilding with a proper track hub-- as soon as I could have the cog removed. I explained to the shop what was going on with the wheel, and I am quite sure they had never seen a suicide setup before. They had a torch and heated it thoroughly to free the cog-- although it still required considerable effort. Once removed, I could see that some of the aluminum threads were coming out in the hub. The bearings need to be completely rebuilt anyway, and I don't like the idea of using the suicide setup. I will probably toss the freewheel back on, and it can do light duty on Lise's singlespeed. The shop guy didn't charge me a kroner for his effort. I felt a twinge of guilt, but it didn't last long.

During my errands, the car speedometer was not working-- again-- after spending over 2100nok for its repair. We are leaving town Sunday. I do not need any speeding tickets! At least I can estimate 90kph by RPMs and gearing. I regret paying the shop on site. They handed me an invoice, and I could have paid in online-- or rather NOT paid it until it was actually repaired. They shop guy said the replace the right rear sensor. Lets see--- that leaves the left rear now? I had explained the nature of the problem when I dropped it off-- that it sometimes works, sometimes doesn't.

What could cap off a perfect rainy day other than Pluto Nash being shown on TV? Seriously-- what were they thinking? What other movie has a rating of 6% at rottentomatos.com? OK, Battlefield Earth and Ecks vs. Sever fare even worse.

Still No Go

OK, I ended up purchasing the creme brulee style torch-- but only because there were no alternatives. So I have the BUTANE torch, but there is no place to buy the butane. For some inexplicable reason, they ship them empty. I am ready to hit the bike shop and have them remove the cog--- and I will return this useless torch. It is a mere child's toy.

I discovered this blog- Bike Snob. Despite its name, it is quite excellent and very well written.

Too Much of a Good Thing

I am rebuilding an old fixed gear for a friend to use when he visits in a week or two. I removed the freewheel from an old high flange Record hub, and tossed a 16t cog on. I cannot find red Loctite anywhere in this town. Sjur came to the rescue by offering red DT Spoke Prep. He claimed it was essentially the same as red Loctite. I was skeptical, but tried it anyway.

I built up the rest of the bike and took it out for a ride a few weeks ago-- when there was a very loud "foam party" in the neighborhood. I discovered the rear hub's bearing were destroyed. In the US I picked up the Formula hub. The flange is similar enough to the Campy that I should be able to simply rebuild the wheel. The other night I began the project. I debated whether I should remove the rim tape, and started loosening one of the spokes. Then I remembered: it would be impossible to remove the cog if I removed the spokes first. I grabbed the chain whip and worked on the cog. It would not budge. For the record, red Spoke Prep is as good as welding it on. I will need to use heat--- either a propane torch (the manly man's method)-- or as a friend suggested, using a creme brulee torch.

I think I will hit the hardware store after work. Lise can use the propane torch for creme brulees--- if it ever comes down to that. Besides, she generally disapproves of kitchen gadgets being used as bicycle tools.

Coming Home

I have been to Boston, San Francisco, back to Boston, and am currently in Halifax. I am so tired. Everything is done. I miss Lise and Julian. I have spent almost three weeks living in hotels. I did manage to pick up a new track hub in Boston-- a decent Formula that actually looks nicer than my current hub. I need to build a rear wheel for a friend who will be visiting in July. I should give Sjur a call--- he is turning into a wheel building guru.

This trip has been fantastic from a business perspective. I will work a week or two, then take a proper vacation. I wish I could snap my fingers and wind up in my bed.

Back in San Francisco

I think tomorrow is gay pride day in SF. Then again, every day is sort of gay pride day in this city. Who can really tell?

Back in Boston

After a wonderful weekend home with Lise and Julian, I am back in the US. There was a medical emergency on the plane in the row in front of me, but other than that it was an uneventful flight. I am tired... must sleep.

Prague Photos

The controversy between US Budweiser and Czech Budweiser rages on.
Freaky clock that drew all sorts of spectators each hour. Apparently something was supposed to happen--- but I could never figure out what.
Freaky castle-like building-- with some other buildings built into the lower levels. I half expected witches to fly out of the towers as the sun set.
We stayed a block away from here- in the height of the tourist zone.
Another view of the tower.

In Prague

I am seeing yet another beautiful European city from the inside of a hotel. Lise sent me a ridiculously cute video of her feeding Julian. It made me miss them even more.

Absurdity

Apologies dear reader, for my lack of posting as of late. My parents spent four weeks visiting. They made it the full term, including travel, with no visits to the emergency room-- which if you know my family, is no mean feat. Even if they are both healthy, as we discovered that a guest can start on fire, and my mother can receive burns extinguishing him during her heroics. But there were no fires this trip. OK, in all fairness, my father was in a walking cast with broken bones to his foot, and my mother used a cane to cope with a bad hip problem. You might say their medical problems were pre-emptive this time.

Monday I travel to Prague. Yesterday my nerves got the best of me, and I decided to call immigration. I am still waiting for my visa renewal. I called the Oslo office. The first person I spoke with said I could not leave the country with a pending application-- and that my application was still with the local police-- after maybe six weeks. Review my passport posts of yore. I called the local office, and was initially told the same thing. She then inquired of my citizenship. Upon hearing that I was American, she said it "shouldn't be a problem." Not exactly my vote of confidence. She then stated that if I submitted proof that I was traveling, they could issue one on the spot. I was on my way.

We dropped my parents off at the airport and headed down to the immigration office, which is really the basement of the police department. I punched the button to grab my queue number in a room full of people at approximately 11am. I pulled number 33. They were serving number 6. After grabbing my photo from the photo both, we decided that I would forego more beautiful weather. I drove Julian and Lise home, and returned to the police station--- on the far side of town. When I arrived, they were serving number 30. I quickly dispensed of formalities and was told to return after 3pm on Friday. I was elated.

Today we stopped by the police station to pick up the passport upstairs at the information desk. I had done this before, and it was in and out. Today there was a line. I drew number 81. They were in the upper 60s with one line open. I went out to the car to tell Lise this would not be a quick wait. It could take five to ten mintues. It was 3pm. There was one line open, and some thug on crutches devouring time. Eventually another line opened. Who were these people, spending their Friday afternoon at the police station? This was the info desk-- not a court room. I just needed to pick up my passport. A Japanese woman who I was seated next to saw my receipt. "Passport?" she asked. We struck up a nice conversation. She told my she lived in Norway for 35 years. I was apalled that she still needed to wait in a line for her visa renewal-- until she told me she had a permanent one and had renewed her passport.

As we spoke, some eastern European looking guy came in, very antsy. He cut in line to ask a question. By this point, Lise had been calling me several times, since we had a ferry to Kvitsøy to catch. I had already suggested that she buy the groceries, but we still had to pick something up at the pharmacy for her grandfather-- although I thought it was only for one of the sheep. This line cutter was really angering me, since it would be a disaster if we missed the ferry. We had to be there by 4:15, since it was the very busy, Friday after work ferry. People were likely already lined up waiting. It isn't a clown ferry that can hold a gazillion cars. I was really getting antsy myself. I contemplated cutting in line to ask if they were serving anyone pressed for time-- but the police officer soon sent this other guy on his way- after about 10 minutes had elapsed. The crutches thug was still hogging the other window.

I was getting stressed. I asked Lise to stop calling, and eventually I left the bench-- some Polish looking guy had entered the building and started pacing. I knew exactly what he was up to. He was going to become another line cutter. I stood up and stood in front of him, where I could see Lise in the parking lot. More importantly, I was blocking him. Eventually we were one number away, which was for the Japanese woman- who was numbered before me. The Polish-looking dude started making his move and approached the window, asking a question. I couldn't help myself- and I said to him, "Hey, I have a ferry to catch. You need to wait your turn. She is next, then me. We only need to pick up our passports." He responded in Norwegian that he only had one question. The Japanese woman who had been waiting over an hour gave me a smile as she hurried to the window. I knew she would be far too polite to confront him. The other guy apologized. The crutches thug was finished at the same moment-- after taking a full hour at the window. I was there and gone in under a minute, with a brand new visa.

We hurried to the ferry, plotting our next move. If we couldn't get our car on, we would drag all of our crap on by foot. Traffic was horrible. Lise had avoided having to stop at the pharmacy. We were much later than we had hoped. As we approached the lines, we saw more than enough room to Kvitsøy (the ferry serves two destinations). It was a miracle. We made it. We probably could have stopped at the pharmacy-- except they were closed. Sometimes things have a way of working out.

I Don't Know What It Is

Picture 091, originally uploaded by filtersweep.

But it is a cool image nonetheless. It also shows what perfect weather we had. Warmer than we had in Stavanger this year-- until today. I didn't sleep well in Trondheim-- it never really gets dark.

Not What I Expected

Picture 104, originally uploaded by filtersweep.

This was a cool "Lutheran Cathedral"- but it appeared that much of it was rebuilt within the last 150 years (even though it was started in the 1100s, or something like that). Anyway, this is not a normal building for Norway.

Trondheim Gargoyle

Picture 101, originally uploaded by filtersweep.

Don't be fooled-- this was taken by my father with his super telephoto lens.

Back from Trondheim

We took Julian, my parents, and aunt to Trondheim for a few days. Julian traveled very well. I will post photos later. What was most unusual about this trip was landing back at Sola (the local airport) in the middle of an air show. I half expected to hear cheering when we touched down. One more week off, then back to work-- full blast.

Pulled Over by the Politi

We spent the day on Kvitsøy with my parents, who arrived last Friday. The last time they were here was five years ago, which was also my first time in Norway. To give us a little more flexibility with transportation, and to service Lise's parents' car, we took their Mazda back on the ferry with us. We were a little nervous that there would not be enough room on the ferry, since we only managed to reserve space for one car. There was enough room, although if there were a few more cars, someone would have been left behind. While on the ferry, Lise's brother called, asking if I could stop by to fix his wireless network. We amended our plan- I would drive the parents' car and stop by her brother's apartment, and Lise would take Julian and my parents home.

As I was leaving the ferry, I noticed a policeman standing on the median, a sight I have never seen before. It looked like he was waving me over. It made no sense-- no one else was being waved over. I made eye contact with him and pointed to myself. He nodded and pointed to pull over behind the police van. I rolled the window down, completely befuddled. I said a mere "hello," prompting him to ask if I spoke any Norwegian. I told him that I spoke a little Norwegian, but interrupted myself trying to wave down Lise as she drove by. He asked me who I was waving at, and I told him. He then asked what car she was driving, and I pointed it out-- she parked ahead of the police car. I was thinking how odd this was-- I was one minute into driving her parents' car, and I am pulled over by the police, less than 30 meters from the ferry.

I asked the officer what was going on. He replied, and I quote him as accurately as possible-- but keep in mind that I think something is slightly lost in his command of the English language. He said, "We received a call that you have been drinking. Have you?" I simply said "no," and he told me I could be on my way. That was that.

In thinking about this further, my theory is that the last car to enter the ferry, that was parked very near me, was inhabited by a very strange couple. As we were parking our car when we drove onto the ferry, we had to fuss with getting Julian out of the car. I noticed a rather trashy-looking couple pull into the last spot. Both were smoking profusely with their windows open. There is no smoking on the ferry. They took a long time to leave the car, and the attracted the attention of the ferry staff, who approached them and spoke to them about something. When we were entering our cars to leave the ferry, I noticed that the woman appeared to have difficulty walking. The thought entered my mind to help her into the car-- but it did not occur to me at the time that she might be intoxicated. My guess is the ferry staff notified the police.

I have no idea what the outcome was. I gained some respect for the police for recognizing they had the wrong person- me- without unnecessarily harassing me. But my run for having never been "pulled over" is now over. Now if only the police will have my approved visa application ready this week.

Fixed Gear Norway

I spent about a year and a half with my fixed gear in retirement. I didn't think I could stand the hills. I discovered mountain biking last year, and prefer off-road riding when the weather is bad--- which is often. I managed to bike through the worst of winter, and have been kicking myself for insisting that we found a house on an easy bus route to my work. I have not ridden the bus since we moved here. I would rather bike through the worst Stavanger weather than take the bus. Now that winter is mostly over, I have been rediscovering fixed gear. Besides, it makes commuting to work more of an adventure, and it requires more effort.

A few days ago I was out in the middle of nowhere, taking it easy. I spied a group of cyclists in my mirror, and at an intersection glanced over to see they were from the Stavanger cycling club. I figured they would overtake me. They didn't. They rode right on my wheel for a few miles, making no attempt to pass. As we approached a busy road, where I was turning right, a car with the right of way was almost in the intersection. Without braking, I slowed my pedaling. I probably should have signaled to those behind me, but this was a T-intersection with a car speeding through it. The bike behind me slammed into the rear of my bike. He locked up his wheel, and somehow we both stayed upright. I was a little embarrassed, but it really was not my fault. He was the one drafting some strange wheel.

He asked me if it was a special kind of bike. I gave him a brief rundown. At that point, the rest of his group caught up. I don't know what kind of riding they were up to beforehand, but I wasn't riding very fast. I don't know how this group managed to split up. They took off, and now I was behind them. It was just as well, since there was a major hill coming up in a few miles leading down to Sandnes. They coasted down the hill-- far faster that I could ever hope to on a bike that didn't coast. Eventually they slowed down again, and I passed them and headed home.

As I approached Stavanger, a taxi had the right of way in a roundabout. I slowed my pedaling to time myself. He completely messed up my timing by stopping-- in the roundabout- to wave me through. I wonder if he thought I wasn't stopping. I cannot stop pedaling-- it is just that simple. I had similar problems in the US at four-way stops. I would pedal right to the point of stopping. Drivers do not know how to process this information. So far, I am the only fixed gear rider around-- that I have seen. Now it is time to spread the gospel.

Julian

Picture 036, originally uploaded by filtersweep.

I have been too busy for a proper blog entry. A picture is worth a thousand words, anyway.

Updates

I am probably starting to sound like I am obsessed. This is turning out exactly like I thought it would. The 24 year old driver is being charged (she was driving under the influence, BTW)-- but she was released yesterday. I am sure she will end up doing some time, and it sounds like she is pleading guilty.

What I do not understand is, if it is so important to chase her for driving an unregistered vehicle, and she has shown a clear disregard for the law by fleeing, and a disregard for public safety by driving on this road and killing someone, why the hell are they releasing her after one day? The legal system is ridiculously lenient in Norway.

On a better note, the community is considering closing the road to vehicles, and it is still front page news in the media.

Follow-Up

You cannot win. A kid was hit by a bicyclist and injured. It looks like a strange story. A female cyclist struck a four year old. She stopped and asked if they were OK. The mother said they were fine. She took off and was on her way. The kid was injured worse than originally thought and they took him to the hospital. For some reason, the police want to speak to the bicyclist. I wonder if they pay this much attention when a driver injures a cyclist? The transportation policy around here is to build bike paths that are separated from the lanes of motorized traffic. In the US, we would call them sidewalks. We all know how safe that is.

On a better note, the authorities are already looking into adding speed bumps and reducing speed along Jåttåveien, the stretch of road where the fatal accident occurred. It is about time. In another article in yesterday's paper, a resident of the area cited how many accidents have occurred on that road.

Thinking this Through

I must have seen at least 50 bicycle commuters today. I rode by the accident scene. There it was gruesome-- with paint markings on the road, a destroyed stone fence, patches of sawdust collecting some sort of liquid. It was in stark contrast to the sunny, warmish weather. There were people everywhere on this bicycle superhighway. Life goes on.

On reflection, it angered me that the police chased a driver that committed the grievous offense of driving without plates. This was no felony, no murder, no NOKAS case. Chase was given over what is effectively a sidewalk-- a road restricted from through traffic, except by buses. In the US, many jurisdictions have put extreme restrictions on high speed chases-- regardless of the original crime committed. These things rarely end well.

A Little Freaked Out

This morning looked to be a beautiful day. On a whim I decided it would be a good day to renew my residency visa, so I drove to the police station. I arrived about 8:15. The office opened at 8. They were on number 54. I drew number 76. There was one window open. It looked to be a long wait. At nine, another window opened, and things started moving. I ended up at work around 10am.

I left work around the usual time, and drove home. The weather was amazing--- warm, sunny. Everyone was out. I regretted driving, but it was just as well-- we had a meeting at the church to discuss Julian's upcoming baptism at 5:30. Things would be a little rushed. As Lise finished preparing dinner, I glanced at an article in the paper about bicycle helmets, accidents, and bike fatalities. Since 2004, there had been only one fatality in southern Rogaland. I mentioned that fact to Lise with a twinge of sadness-- we knew who he was: the father of a close friend who was killed soon after we moved to Norway. Still, there was something reassuring about the rarity of serious bike accidents.

Later that evening, Lise came downstairs after reading the news on the internet, and said something about how that one fatality was now two. In today's online local news was the story of two women in a car, chased by police, who struck two women biking-- killing one of them. The accident occurred around 3:30pm. What sickened us both is that is the route I take to and from work. That is a road Lise walks Julian. It is a road that I see full of kids walking and biking to school every morning--- a road where through motorized traffic is forbidden-- although during rush hour it can be well-traveled with little consequence. It was a head-on collision-- another unexpected element to the tragedy.

I don't regard biking around here as a particularly dangerous activity, but I guess that all bets are off if there is a police chase. In some regards, it is like being struck by lightening. My only wish is that the criminal justice system were more focused on punishment for these sorts of crimes. Norway tends to be quite soft on crime. It truly was a good day not to bike home from work.

Week in Review

It has been a busy week. I have made a concerted effort to spend more time with Julian during the limited time when he is awake in the evening. He has been going to bed earlier and earlier each night. I biked to work all week. Early in the week, the weather was quite decent, and there was actually a line to use the showers-- and we have three of them. It motivated me to leave earlier as the week progressed.

Tuesday I discovered another flat tire-- after work. It was the rear again. This time is was a large piece of embedded glass. Hopefully my tire karma is paid in full for a while. Thursday afternoon and Friday morning I saw snow. A few days earlier I was biking in shorts and short sleeves. This morning, with the wind, it was as cold as it has ever been this winter. Hopefully we have winter paid off in full, as well.

Brann! Brann!

The doorbell rang shortly after dinner. Lise was with Julian, so I went down to see what was going on. It was one of the neighbor kids from down the street selling raffle tickets to fundraise for his football club. I ended up buying one. Someday Julian will be in the same situation. Besides, this kid lives down the street. He received bonus points for being easy to understand. Lise gave me a hard time, since she had declined a few offers, and said there have been two or three other people who have stopped by the past few days. These others were not from the neighborhood, and were raising money for dubious causes.

A little later in the evening, the doorbell rang several times in rapid succession. I was thinking there is no way I will buy from someone that rude. When I made it downstairs, I saw an adult woman at the neighbors across the street, on the cell phone, yelling at me in Norwegian, "fire! fire!" She asked me to get some water, so I filled a bucket and followed her up the hill as she spoke the the fire department. I could not see or smell any smoke, but I followed her anyway. At the top of the hill, I could see smoke. As we walked through some brush, I saw the fire. There was no way that a few buckets were going to make much of a difference. There was probably an acre of wildfire, spreading in a circle. The woman and another neighbor started beating the fire out with some scrap lumber they found. I went back for more water. By the time I returned, which was a few minutes, the fire department had already arrived. By this time, there were all sorts of neighbors out. I felt ridiculous with two buckets. The fire crew took care of everything in a few minutes.

My guess is that some kids started the fire. One neighbor thought that the sun could have started it by shining through some broken glass, but I found that idea to be far-fetched and rather naive. I don't think any houses were really threatened by the fire, although they could have been if it gained strength or if it went unnoticed for much longer. All in all, it was like a block party-- a great way to meet neighbors I haven't met before.

Happiness is a New Wireless Router

I have been having issues with my wireless internet. This morning I could not access the internet at all from my laptop, so I tried the wired connection up in the loft. Nothing. This defied logic. I could not even see the wireless option, so something was amiss. I looked at the router, and none of the lights were on. I checked the power connection, everything appeared to be connected. I wiggled the wall wart power cable-- no shorts. I pulled out my multitester to see if any juice was passing through the power converter, but I couldn't register anything--- the plug was very thin, and I chalked it up to poor contact.

Here was my dilemma: this was a little over a year old-- and maybe under warranty. I did not know if the router was fried, or if the power supply was bad. It was on odd plug and 4.5 v-- very non-standard. I had nothing to test it. I bagged it all up and headed to the Elkjop, where I had purchased it. The computer repair station was closed, and the sales floor had no unboxed units I could use for testing. I decided to just buy a new one. As I searched the box for its warranty info, I noticed that I had a lifetime warranty. I am sure that means I have to send it in, and would be without one for an indeterminate time. The trouble is, both IP phones require the router, and all of our internet connections go through it. My plan was to return the new one to the store if it was only a bad power supply.

I arrived home, and tested the old one with the new power supply-- nothing. The router was bad. At least I made the right decision. I hooked up and configured the new router, and plan to have the old one fixed under warranty. I can always sell it. It had me thinking about what a racket a lifetime warranty is on an essential item. On the other hand, I have had very little computer hardware "go bad" on me.

Beautiful Day

It was 62 degrees today, or something like that. For me, that means shorts and short sleeves and a ride. Back in Minnesota, I would have worn knee warmers and long sleeves. Somehow I have adjusted to the climate here-- although the locals tend to be more bundled up- like wearing jackets. I headed out, thinking I might bike around to Bersagel in a loop, but some random biker guy caught me, and I followed his route for an hour or so, and we had a nice talk. He was a doctor who lives south of Sandnes, and is training to follow the Tour de France this year- practicing for the alps. He knew the elevation of every point on this ride. I had anticipated a quick hour to hour to ninety minute ride, and only had one bottle. I wasn't ready for these thousand foot climbs that he knew about, but it was fine. The weather was great, I was feeling OK, and he was wanting to take it easy. My only worry was my hydration, and he ended up sharing half his extra bottle with me. The best part was to learn of a different route- and this set of roads didn't see much traffic. It felt good to have an extended hard ride, and I feel like an uncaged animal riding the road bike- rather than the slow mountain bike with a heavy backpack carrying my laptop and work gear. Still, I don't think I will be in any condition to race on May 1. My parents will be here for most of May, which will likely rule out the North Sea Race. Just having Julian around makes racing impractical right now, and I am completely OK with that. There actually are more important things in life.

Giving and Taking

Over Easter, every relative we visited had incredible cable or satellite reception. We have been limping along on regular cable since we moved here. To be fair, we started cable with a very basic package before we even had jobs-- we needed internet. Cable internet had a much shorter waiting list than DSL, and our apartment was cabled for fiber optic. Unfortunately, this regular cable, that requires no converter, displays an unbearable amount of artifacts. Easter was the last straw. Life is too short-- and our TV is too good-- to be wasted on regular reception.

I spoke with Lise, or rather bugged her incessantly, about upgrading to a digital cable package. This would also include a DVR box, which we had back in Minneapolis. I viewed it as the greatest invention in the history of mankind-- and it had an added value now that we had Julian. We could always pause a show, or record a show to watch later. Anyway, early this week I called our provider, with the new, but dubious name, Get. We will have extra channels as well- like Discovery, Animal Planet, all the usual US cable channels. I skipped the movie channels. We had too many of those back in the US. All the great HBO shows like the Sopranos, Rome, etc. end up on NRK anyway. So I am happy.

On the other hand, yesterday an alarm company stopped by our house offering security packages. I was at work, and Lise scheduled the rep to stop by when I returned home. I am not a fan of security systems. Sure, we had a break-in a few months ago across the street-- but that was rather random. We basically live on a dead-end street in a rather secluded area- apart from our neighbors. It is secluded in the sense that no one can see into our back door or windows. But we share a wall with a neighbor in a side-by-side house-- although we rarely see those neighbors. It is highly improbable that we would be victims of a burglary.

The other factor working against my interest in alarms is that we lived in the US and never had them. When I first moved to Minneapolis I lived in a bad, bad neighborhood. Our windows were shot out, someone started a car on fire on the street in front of our house, a woman was murdered in our yard, and we had three break-ins within six months. I broke the lease and moved-- without much consequence. I lost some music equipment in the break-ins, but it was insured. I later lost a bike when my storage locker in Uptown was broken into in the apartment building I was living at the time. I experienced a few credit card thefts over the years. Beyond that, I really haven't worried too much about crime. We lived in about as safe a neighborhood as you can find in Minneapolis when we had our house. When we were living downtown, it was protected like a fortress with a private army. Those rentanazis were a bit overzealous, and towed my car out of its reserved parking two weekends in a row, damaging it both times. They were worse than criminals. But out of principle, I do not feel compelled to have a security system living here in Norway.

Despite my attitudes, it seems a huge percent of homeowners have alarm systems. This house had one when we moved in, but we chose not to continue the contract. After the break-in across the street, Lise has been concerned every time we return from being away. I can see her point, but I also know that this feeling will fade over time. But she wanted an alarm for peace of mind. We still have the stickers from the old alarm service on all our doors and windows, but I have come to find out that company no longer exists with that name.

Before the alarm rep arrived, I did some homework online, and was surprised how reasonably priced this company was. We need a few extras, since we have pets, and we do not have a proper phone line. For a few dollars per month, they add in a GSM dialer- like a cell phone, and motion detectors that somehow can ignore pets. The entire system is wireless. The system no longer has the primitive key pad- well it does, for backup, but it also has key chain controllers, like remote entry for cars. They probably use all this gimmickry to appeal to the toy loving male minds, because I was finding the technology the most interesting aspect. With all the travel that I do, and the amount of time that we are beginning to spend away from here on Kvitsøy, it makes some sense to have an alarm. We should also save a little chunk off our homeowner's insurance. Still, I believe the best deterrent are the alarm stickers that we already have... and maybe we could trade our cats in for two large dogs.

Flat Tire

My new slicks already had a flat rear tire. I was severely disappointed in the durability- one commute and a few rides- until I removed it and found the stem was separating from the tube. There will be no patching involved. I ripped the stem out so I would not attempt to reuse it by mistake.

I took the opportunity to tune up the shifting. Derailleurs have always been a mystery to me. I read up at Park Tool, and played around with a few adjustments. I am convinced I have this better tuned than the day I purchased it. We shall see-- in a few minutes as I head off to work.

I worked from home on Wednesday. I seem to have a cold that attacked my ears. I get these once a year. They greatly affect my balance, but I end up with no other symptoms. Yesterday I drove to work. Today I feel much better, although I can feel it a little in my chest. I would almost rather be full-blast sick than have limited symptoms and among the walking. Having half a cold is like being in limbo- and it certainly does not invite any sympathy from others.

Viking vs. Rosenborg

Yesterday I went to a soccer game. The stadium is a generous walk away, and considering that there is no parking near the stadium, I hoofed it. In the rain. Lise's brother offered his cousin's season ticket. As I approached the stadium, I saw mobs of people walking to the game. I don't know if they all live in the neighborhood, or if they had to park a few miles away.

We had good seats- meaning that we were out of the rain- unlike the players. I noticed two of Lise's cousins from the other side of the family sitting one row behind us. At "halftime" I bumped into two coworkers- who were attending the game separately. Stavanger can really be a small town sometimes. Football is a strange sport when you attend a live game. Basically, the fans object to any decision in the opposing team's favor-- no matter what. I cannot imagine a worse job than officiating a soccer match. The line judge on our side of the pitch looked exactly like Jim Carey in Me, Myself, and Irene, which lent a comic air to the proceedings.

The game ended in an unsatisfying tie. There was pedestrian gridlock outside the stadium as I left. A new train stop in under construction, and the sidewalks have been rerouted. With the rain, and the construction zone, there was a very muddy mess. It was raining quite hard by this point, and the walk home was all uphill-- literally all uphill for a few miles. I was a tired, wet mess by the time I arrived home. There is something very cool about being able to walk to a pro sporting event. It reminded me very vaguely of living downtown Minneapolis, a few blocks from Target center, and walking to Timberwolf games. Except here, I was walking home through the woods- rather than an urban landscape. It was a good night.

Snowing on Easter

It is snowing, on Easter, in Kvitsøy. It never snows here. The weather could not be worse. Now it is raining horizontally.

Wanting a Boat

I was checking at finn.no, and there are almost as many ads for boats as cars. OK, that is a slight exaggeration, but there is an amazing assortment available that are relatively affordable. We live on a peninsula, so it is only fitting that we should have some sort of watercraft. Of course, I grew up as far away from an ocean as you can find on this planet. I know nothing about sailing, boat maintenance, navigation, or the realities of boat ownership. I have this fantasy notion of "boating" to the Mediterranean, but should probably consider that these diesel powered craft have a top speed of maybe 8 knots. That is a speedy 9mph. At that rate, it would "only" take 3 weeks round trip-- and that doesn't even account for the fuel. But at least we could stay in the cramped cabin, providing we could find somewhere to dock.

My best guess is that the expense of the boat is only the tip of the iceberg (which is probably not the best metaphor, in this case). All the accessories and maintenance-- and time- probably make this something more than I would bargain for. I guess I have the rest of my life to sort this out. Still, it never hurts to look.

Two Below

It is maybe 30F right now-- below freezing. For all the holidays in Norway, the main problem is that they are all during cold weather. May seventeenth is generally a miserable day. There are no holidays between Pentecost (the end of May) and Christmas. My theory is that Norwegians are so fussy about their vacation time that they wouldn't want to ruin it by overlapping any of it with a holiday. At least the sun is shining today--- which is probably WHY it is so cold.

Easter

A few random notes- I am off work until next Tuesday for Easter. This is one of the perks about living in a church state.

I tossed some 1.6" slicks on the extra mountain bike rims. The bike looked silly-- almost like a car with four donut spares. But it was silly fast and silly quiet on pavement and gravel. The reduction in rolling resistance was amazing. I went out for a test ride today. The tires don't have a very nice ride-- these are bullet-proof Continentals with wire beads. They feel more like plastic than rubber. Since I didn't have my laptop with me, I rode down some stairs that had been teasing me for weeks. There is quite a psychological barrier to riding down steps-- my strategy was to have my hands nowhere near the brakes-- and it worked just fine. Now I need to work on riding up.

Julian has been wonderfully entertaining, as always. It is incredible to be able to spend this much time with him. I should probably take more video of him, but I don't want to experience his childhood through a camcorder viewfinder.

Elijah the cat is enthralled with a nature show about bears on NRK. The crazy bear cubs are sledding down the side of a mountain. Nothing is quite as odd as watching a cat watching TV.

Fever

Last night Julian had a fever. I would rather go to the dentist than watch him go through being that upset again. He was inconsolable-- until we gave him some children's aspirin, and he finally calmed down and fell asleep. He actually cried a tear. It was gut-wrenching. I would not have been as concerned, but he had his first vaccinations today. We were told that fever can be a side-effect, but it only leads me to question what is in the vaccinations. While I am slightly paranoid about such things, I tend to trust the Norwegian government more than the US government. He is back to his normal self today.

Boston

I finally managed to find the time to download the handful of photos I took in the US. The trips are far from vacations. Here is a shot of Boston taken from our hotel. Boston was a much smaller city than I thought it was.

Tromsø 2018?

Tromsø is applying for the Winter Olympics for 2018. Does anyone realize how far north Tromsø is? Then again, by 2018, the only real snow will probably be north of the arctic circle. From late November through late January, the sun doesn't even rise above the horizon. As far north as it is, at least it is warmer than Minnesota in the winter.

Escape from USA

When we were checking in at Logan, the ticketing agent gave me a bit of trouble about returning. My visa expires in a few days, and I have no return ticket to the US. The reason my visa expires is because my passport expires the end of May. On paper, my visa expires in late May as well. I suggested that I still had 3 months as a "tourist"- that no visa is required to travel to Norway. I had looked into all these details before leaving-- and even visited Norwegian immigration twice to make sure there would be no problems.

The woman was very kind. She told me she could be fined $20,000, so she consulted her supervisor. I was not popular with everyone else waiting in line at the counter. Her boss arrived and asked if I had a Norwegian drivers license. He then asked when it expired. He was in disbelief as I showed him that it expired on my 100th birthday. He said it was good enough for him.

On the plane, I decided that I would tell immigration at Schipol that I was traveling for three weeks on business, if asked. I was never asked. The guy looked at me and stamped my passport without a word.

Yesterday I mailed in my re-application. No messing around anymore.

Vintage Filtersweep

My mother sent me this photo of me flying a kite, with my brother in front of me, and two unidentified neighbor kids watching. I don't know why I think this photo is so cool-- maybe because it so effortlessly captures childhood in the 70s.

I am back in Norway. How quickly this place feels like home again. Flying from Boston to Amsterdam was no worse than flying from LA to Boston. I couldn't make it through three movies-- not enough time.

I have noticed I now watch more movies on planes than anywhere else.

Mini Movie Reviews:

Walk the Line- I don't know what there is to say about the "Man in Black." My grandma liked him, I liked him-- as did all the hipster kids that kept "Ring of Fire" in constant rotation down at the CC club back in the early 90s. As a movie, it was OK-- but most of these types of movies would come off as rather weak if they were not actually "true stories." This was every bit as good (or bad) as that Doors movie.

Night at the Museum- My first thought: Mickie Rooney is still alive?! He would be good to pick up in a death pool. Owen Wilson had possibly the longest cameo in history. It was a fun enough movie, but the obligatory father/son tension was a cliched Hollywood contrivance that I could have done without. This is a perfect film for a semi-conscious intercontinental flight when you are questioning if they are pumping enough oxygen into the cabin.

Deja Vu- I watched the first five minutes, then decided watching a terrorist attack from the comfort of my economy seat in a plane was not a good idea. I skipped it.

Stranger than Fiction- Am I actually warming up to that Ferrell guy? Watching Dustin Hoffman and his coffee and Emma Thompson and her cigarettes are priceless. Maggie Gyllenhaal was perfect in her role. Spoiler alert: of course the movie had to have a happy ending.

The flight from LA to Boston showed Stranger than Fiction AND Talladega Nights-- a veritable Will Ferrell film-fest. I had already seen both.

On the return to Amsterdam, I gave Deja Vu another opportunity after my boss told me how excellent it was. This movie, like all time manipulation films, requires a high suspension of disbelief. The plot was rather artificial. Still, if you can get past that, it was on par with the Hollywood gold standards for time travel.

Casino Royale- OK- I have seen this in a theater before. The point of this review is to highlight how butchered it was-- "edited" for planes. There were parts that were cut out for no apparent reason. This is a Bond flick-- no nudity, no real profanity. Bonds torture scene was left mostly intact, except the part where he taunted his nemesis. The scene where he was drugged and nearly died was completely removed. I do not understand. All the violence was left intact.

X-Men- The Last Stand- I didn't make it through the entire movie, since I ran out of time. I have no idea how it ended. This is the sort of film I would only watch on a plane.

Hotel Television- European hotels seem to have normal cable TV. ALL of the Hiltons and Hyatts where we stayed had some custom "hotel network" that replaced all the normal commercials with commercials for "As Seen on TV" and infomercial type products. It was disturbing-- especially since it resulted in showing the same commercials all the time- like for the Carroll Burnett DVD collection. HBO seemed to rotate the same three movies non-stop: Tranporter 2, 16 Blocks, and the latest episode of Rome. To further complicate matters, the networks seemed to rotate on the same channel. If I fell asleep watching HBO, I awoke to some weepy televangelist. Another note- I quickly forgot how many commercials they show on American TV.

Back in Boston

...did I mention it is snowing again?

Travels

I have been too busy to blog or take photos. My camera phone is no longer on speaking terms with my laptop. I am sitting in a bar in an Irvine Hilton. The past week has been surreal. We took a small plane with engine trouble to Raleigh. We had a long meeting, then hurried to the airport to take the milk route to Oakland. This plane stopped in Chicago, Denver, Las Vegas, then Oakland. It was one of Southwest's routes--- we never had to change planes. Fortunately the plane was half full, or it is half empty? Regardless, the burly flight attendant offered use peanuts and crackers on all four legs of the flight. It ceased to be amusing. I had my first experience at Midway airport in Chicago. It is like landing in a soccer field in the middle of a residential neighborhood. I had no idea that a plane could stop so quickly. Helicopters need more landing room. Denver was Denver--- which is nowhere near Denver. Las Vegas was surreal from the air. Oakland was Oakland. It is probably a better spot to land than the San Francisco airport- which looks like a dock sticking out into the bay. After San Francisco we flew to Orange County airport-- across the street from where I sit, amidst an Irani-American event. Literally: only in America.

Boston

I had a nice trip to Amsterdam-- on an exit row. I sat next to a retired Statoil exec who talked my ear off. He was very interesting. He and his wife were on their way to Nice for a month. We had a little glitch when we landed- there was no one waiting at the gate to open the doors. We sat for maybe ten minutes before we could "deplane." I ran a tight schedule, and we had to walk twenty minutes or so to catch our plane to Boston that started boarding before we even landed. We ended up on a NWA airbus with video on demand. I sat next to some strange Swedish woman who sold snowmobile parts. She really wasn't that strange after talking to her a bit. I watched Night at the Museum, Walk the Line, and that movie with Stranger than Fiction. I started watching Deja Vu, but it seemed entirely uncool to watch a movie about terrorism while on a plane. Our flight to Boston was nothing. It is significantly shorter than flying to Minneapolis or points further west. Boston is so small the airport is practically downtown. Good thing I had some US cash-- there are toll roads here.

We ate a feast of Sushi down the street. I am tired. My PC thinks it is 2am. I have meetings in the morning. Must get sleep.

Homesick

I haven't even left, and I am missing my family. I don't believe that traveling without them is something I ever really want to be comfortable with. I shortened our trip by a few days so I will return next Monday. This will be a difficult trip in that we are pinning much of the company's future on business in the US. My goal is to build up more resources within the company that I can tap into. I have spent too many evenings working from home, making calls to the US, and organizing travel plans. When I return I will work on a way to balance home and work life. I am in one of those "be careful what you wish for" situations.

In thinking about this, I remember that I wasn't thrilled about returning to work after Julian's birth. It seemed like the wrong thing to do-- yet life goes on. My guess is that I will feel pangs at everything related to his gradual independence. I don't understand parents who take vacations and leave their kids behind. My parents never did that. I vividly remember one summer before I was five when my father was away at graduate school for a few weeks. Of course Julian is too you-- or is he?

Time to finish packing. When I return, it will literally be springtime.

Happiness...

...is a snoring baby.

American Airline

I need to travel to Raleigh from Boston next week, and AA is the only carrier that can get me there faster than hitchhiking. So I tried ordering flights online. Everything was going well, until I had to enter the billing address. They would not accept "Norway"- it was not in the drop-down box. I believe they had every country in the western hemisphere, but not a single European or Asian option. They are an AIRLINE. Do they not serve travelers?

So I called them. They wanted to add $10 to process it over the phone. They couldn't accept a foreign credit card either. They said I could go to any British Airways counter at an airport. I wasn't going to travel just to buy tickets. Finally I grabbed an old US credit card. I had to guess what the phone numbers were, and I am not convinced I gave the correct billing address, since the statements come here as well. I hindsight, I should have gave them a random US address using my work card.

I won't even mention how the only flight I could get out of Raleigh to San Francisco is on Southwest. It has THREE stops. I wonder... does the final destination count as a stop? It seems all flights by default have at least one stop. Three stops could mean four legs to the flight. I will likely feel released from incarceration when we arrive in glorious Oakland. Now if only the GPS could actually drive the car to hour hotel.

Changing a Battery in a Polar 720

Polar would have you believe you must send their heart rate monitors to a repair shop just to change the battery. At least that is what the owner's manual states. I threw caution to the wind, as mine requires its third battery, and I really do not want to send it off to who knows where. As you can see, the CR 2354 battery could not be more easily accessible. Despite what I read elsewhere on the internet, it does not use a CR 2032. Four small screws hold the watch together. The only risk, aside from ham-fisted mechanical aptitude, is that the HRM is water resistant. Apparently I have not guaranteed that it is properly sealed. But this is out of warranty, and I don't see a repair shop doing much better. Besides, I am not going diving for pearls with this thing. Use this information at your own risk.

Melsheia

Picture 004, originally uploaded by filtersweep.

Our weekly weekend getaway took us to Melsheia, where some of the Nokas money is reputed to be buried.

Motivation

I took a brief break from biking to work. I drove the day before and after the UK trip, which meant all last week was free from biking. Yesterday we had a fierce wind and rain. I drove. This morning was similar weather, but I knew I had no car available to drive. Motivation came from nowhere. The wind was at my back, and I am quite sure that I set a new speed record. Unfortunately my HRM is in need of a new battery, so I have no idea what my time was. I do know that no cars passed me on the back stretch of road. That almost never happens.

I think winter is over. I am thinking of using the wheels with the studded tires to run slicks. I'd like to order tires from the US, but I can't seem to find slicks with a folding bead.

Next week I leave for the US again. I have been very busy with preparing documentation and scheduling meetings. I am thoroughly stressed out. With this trip, March is already gone. This time I will be flying to Boston, then traveling to NYC, then either DC or SC, then to San Francisco and LA. It will be another whirlwind tour. I am seeing more of the US while living abroad than I did when I lived back home. The irony.

Stavanger Tourism in London?

01032007304, originally uploaded by filtersweep.

I couldn't believe it: we saw Stavanger posters all over the tube system- usually right when we came down the escalators. My boss and I really put on a vocal display of how cool the area was for the benefit of anyone nearby. We were actually headed to Heathrow when we spied these.

Haberdasher's Hall

OBEY, originally uploaded by filtersweep.

I spotted this guy guarding the entrance to the hall. His sidekick was named "Serve," but taken out of context, it looks much more surreal.

Back From Mirror World

I picked that up from a Gibson novel--- likely due to the English driving on the wrong side of the road. A few key differences that distinguish England from other countries (aside from the driving): heated towel racks. It seems a little cheap by Norway standards, where we like to heat the entire bathroom floor. 200-some volt outlets-- normal enough by European standards, by they insist on using an even bulkier plug-in than continental Europe. Think US oven or electric dryer plug and you have the right idea. To add a bit of a flourish, they like to place on-off switches at every outlet. Funky taxis. There are no others like them. Here in Norway we like our luxury cars. England still uses the old-school looking cabs that are actually quite practical if you have a bunch of luggage.

The trip went well. It was nice to see a little more of England rather than just London. I don't think there are any English people working in the hospitality industry in the entire country. It was a nice trip, but it was great to finally be home.

Homesick Already

I leave for London in the morning. This will be my first work trip since Julian arrived. I miss him already and I haven't even left. This is more difficult than moving to Norway! I will only be away for two nights. I guess this is a good warm-up before leaving for the US for three weeks later in March.

Wind

This is a bit late, but Thursday is wind night here in Stavanger. Last week was the same situation. I wouldn't notice this sort of thing if it were not for the fact that Friday morning is garbage pickup, and the wind blows the dumpsters all over the street. This Thursday was particularly bad, and the recycling bins, which were not due for pickup, were banging against our bedroom wall all night. I don't sleep particularly well when the wind is howling at 50mph. I think it has to do with my midwest American upbringing where we never had wind for the sake of wind. If we ever had this kind of wind, there was usually a particularly destructive storm attached to it. The other night was dry wind. Wind and only wind. No rain, no thunder, no lightening- nothing but wind. Apparently it was bad enough that they evacuated one of the oil platforms around here. I don't think I would feel any safer in a helicopter under those conditions, but I am guessing that a small boat would feel even worse.

Baby Passport

Crudely redacted, as this is the internet. There is probably an east European crime cartel that employs a sweatshop full of people searching for this sort of thing. I find his height amusing, since he really doesn't stand-- and he is probably already a few cm taller. The washed-out antiquish quality to the photo makes it look a hundred years old.

For you Americans, Noreg is the nynorsk word for Norway. Nynorsk is a concept designed to confuse immigrants or others interested in learning the language. It is like an alternate reality. Actually, it is more like Esperanto-- a contrived, written version of Norwegian designed to reflect spoken dialects. It never really existed as a written form until the government mandated its use. It seems to receive about 10% use in media. I am no expert, and I am quite sure I have butchered the true meaning of nynorsk, so perhaps I should qualify this as "what nynorsk means to me." Apparently someone in the 1800s felt that written Norwegian too closely reflected Danish, so he "invented" it. From what I have seen, written Norwegian and Danish are very similar, which is quite odd, since Danish people seem to speak something that has no resemblance to Norwegian. It is like they speak Norwegian with rocks in their mouth. Everything sounds like it is spoken from the back of the throat, or that the words are being gargled. I am exposed to Danish in product packaging, since it often is written in Norwegian, Swedish, Danish, and maybe Finish. Finish has no relationship to Swedish or Danish, and is only included due to its geographic proximity. However, the Danish and Norwegian words are often nearly identical, which makes me wonder why they even go through the effort to separate them. We also receive Swedish TV here, and while the written language has less in common, I can decipher at least some of it when spoken. Anyway, as far as I am concerned bokmål is real Norwegian, and nynorsk is Norwegian with speed bumps-- I have to sound out half the words in my head to figure out what they mean. The good old wikipedia has more than you would ever want to know about this-- including the real reasons behind its use.

Norway's Stupidest Criminals

I know "stupidest" isn't a word, but it should be. The car thieves who drove off in the neighbor's car were picked up in Egersund the other day. Apparently they made it that far before the needed gas. As if it wasn't dumb enough to take the car, it was even dumber to fill the tank with gasoline-- considering it was a diesel. Of course the story doesn't end there-- even "stupider" is that they took it in to the shop to be repaired! The shop guy apparently contacted the police, and the car was recovered. This really leads me to wonder how stupid these people were to attract the attention of the mechanics. But I reserved stupidest of all to the politi here in Norway for letting these people go. Apparently none of the other property was recovered, and it doesn't appear there is any effort. At least the car is on its way back. Then again, I don't know all the details of Norwegian law, but these people will probably end up getting a tax break or a subsidy for their crime.

Speaking of which, there is some arcane law that says I am entitled to a substantial tax break for last year's taxes and next year. Apparently they want to give "immigrants" a good start on life here in expensive Norway. I don't really need it, but I won't complain. I am sure Julian will spend the money.

Finally, speaking of the little guy, his passport arrived today. It is almost as cute as he is. It is truly crazy cute--- with his little photo taken when he was two months old. If only renewing my US passport was so easy!

Everybody Does It

Picture 044, originally uploaded by filtersweep.

The woods were crawling with families with kids. I never saw this sort of thing living in the US.

There was still a layer of ice on the lake

Picture 048, originally uploaded by filtersweep.

Sunday Walk

Picture 042, originally uploaded by filtersweep.

Or maybe it was more of a hike pushing the baby wagon.

Baby Passport

Julian and I had a great time last night. There actually was a terrible guy movie on-- Metro with Eddie Murphy. It received an awesome 5.2 stars out of 10 at IMDB. I don't recall machine guns or helicopters, but it does have Michael Wincott, if that counts for anything. I was amazed how quickly the night flew by-- especially considering I had an early start. Who knew that a 2 month old could keep me so entertained? I was seriously looking forward to hanging out with Julian alone, and he did not disappoint. I think it was nice for Lise to feel a little freedom to be able to get away for more than a few minutes.

Today, Julian had his passport photo taken. He looks so little and so serious in the photo. He is required to have his mouth closed, and it really changes his appearance. It looks like a little baby mugshot.

Speaking of photos, we had about 209 digital photos printed out for only 1 nok each. I couldn't even buy paper and ink for that price. They turned out wonderfully, but the accurate aspect ratio of digital camera looks a little odd. I like the 35mm film ratio better-- they are more rectangular than the squarish prints of digital. Maybe I am just old fashioned. Then again, I grew up during the instamatic era, when prints were even more squarish. It was strange going through the photos, that turned out very well, by the way. Julian was so tiny when he was born. It is amazing how quickly he is growing.

It is below freezing and snowing now. I must remember to swap out the tires in the morning. I had the brilliant idea that I will put slicks on the winter wheels for city riding during the non-winter months. Tonight summer seems impossibly far away.

Urban Decay Forums

I stumbled across this urban decay forum out of the UK. Freaky stuff.

Transportation

This morning was very foggy. I didn't give it much thought as I prepared to leave, but I could hardly see the edge of our terrace in the back yard. Each day grows 5 minutes longer, meaning in less than two week we have more than an hour more sunlight. I took my time getting ready so I wouldn't bike in darkness and extreme fog.

As I set off, I wondered if school was out today. I believe it is winter vacation here, where everyone is supposed to go to the mountains to ski. There were none of the usual kids running all over the place walking to school. Despite my recent posts regarding our neighborhood crime wave, this country is a ridiculously safe place to live. I see kids of all ages walking to school, which seems even more dramatic in the pre-dawn darkness of winter. Most kids wear reflective vests, and some even carry flashlights or have ski headlamps as they walk through the woods to school. I swear some of these kids look so tiny that I fear they are walking to day care!

As I went down the big hill to take the back road to work, I realized how cold the fog was. While the temperature was just above freezing, and there was no wind, this was one of the coldest commutes I can recall. It was a strange fog-- very thick, but it didn't cover me in mist as fogs often do. As I rode to work I lamented the fact that I haven't been riding for fun at all lately. I cannot remember the last time I rode anywhere when it wasn't transportation. Of course, having a cute two month old at home is better than doing anything at this point in time. Tonight I have him all to myself as Lise is heading out to see a play. She is having a girl's night out. I told her Julian and I will have a guy's night in- beer, cigars, and watching movies with machine guns, helicopters, and explosions. We will probably skip the cigars. And the beer. And the bad movies.

Its Getting Personal

Our neighbor's newish Audi was stolen Thursday. These are the neighbors whose house was broken into a few weeks ago. Apparently the thief found a spare key and came back for the car- that had been kept in the garage most of the time. It was parked on the street the night it was stolen. It is very creepy that this person returned. Apparently there was a driver's license left in the car that was used to open a new cell phone account. I hope the police can somehow track these this person down. You would think with the GPS in phones, the Autopass for the tollways, and all the video cameras everywhere that something could be done. Then again, it is mostly a nuisance burglar-turned car thief. It is really sad.

Do You Speak English?

It was a very busy week. But now that I think about it, most weeks are busy. Friday I needed to drop off some print jobs downtown. It was on one of the few streets that I was familiar with- Kvitsøygata- and only because my wife is from Kvitsøy and the street name stuck in my head. I was very impressed with the shop and the design work they perform. We need new roll-ups for our U.K. trip. Thankfully we are using the lightweight aluminium stands, since we will need to drag those through London, then to Manchester, and back again. Anyway, I drove to work. It was just as well that I had the car. It was insanely windy. Thursday night seems to be the normal wind night around here. It is notable in that we have garbage pickup Friday mornings, and our containers end up blown all over the neighborhood. They are identical to the types of containers we had in Minneapolis, by the way.

Today I went grocery shopping while Lise stayed home. I went to Ultra, since they have coffee beans that I can grind for the espresso maker. I would just as well go to Mega, but it was raining, and I preferred the underground parking. Ultra is as close to a Lunds or Byerlys that you will find here. In some respects, it is nicer. Like Byerlys, it is expensive. In the dairy aisle some woman from the UK asked me if I spoke English. She then had all sorts of questions what distinguished one butter from the other. Some had no salt, some half salt, some had yogurt, some were blended with margarine. She asked the right person. The store today was seemingly filled with people from the UK-- I heard English English spoken everywhere. I wondered if they understood any Norwegian. I am always curious how other foreigners experience life here. My life here would be very different if Lise were not Norwegian. I also was left with the thoughts that maybe I should make friends with more native speakers of English. It isn't that I have trouble communicating, but sometimes it is nice to speak English with people when it doesn't feel like they are doing me a favor.

Innebandy (Not Hit by a Bus)

Yesterday we had our innebandy tournament at the sports hall down the street. I was "volunteered" for this post-work activity-- having never played it before. It didn't seem too complicated-- basically three-on-three floor hockey. I played mostly defense-- but with only three people, we were all over the place. Our first game we tied. The second was brutal-- there was a rather psychotic player from the opposing team who was into full contact. During the game he ended up flipping out, screaming, throwing his stick against the wall. I am not one to be incited to the point of violence, but he was so abusive on the court that I am quite certain a fight would have erupted had he not been ejected from the game. This also ended in a tie-- and afterward, I thought the hot head might be coming over to apologize, but no. He was emphatically trying to offer excuses for his behavior. Game three we ended up losing. We were all exhausted. We didn't make the playoffs, which was fine-- as Lise and I had dinner plans at the neighbors.

Today I could barely move. My shoulder are bruised up from the contact, my legs sore from all the running around, and my back in worse pain that it was before. It hadn't been doing too well from biking-- I can't ever really stand when I ride on ice. I stopped by the hardware store to pick up some tubing so I could bleed the brakes. I finally finished popping the new pads in, and I should be ready to ride to work Monday. Tomorrow we head to Kvitsøy for Mother's Day-- but I am most excited for Lise and her first Mother's Day.

Smiles

I don't think anything makes me smile like seeing Julian smile. At almost eight weeks, I think it is something a little more than a reflex.

Blåmuggost

I was looking at the package of "blue mold cheese" literally translated, and once again, I was reminded how direct (and efficient) the Norwegian language is. Nobody in the US could conceive of marketing a blue mold cheese product. Rather, we prefer all sorts of sensitive euphemisms. This mentality permeates much of the rest of the culture as well. People tend not to be so superficially nice as in the US. That works for me, as I tend not to respond well to empty praise. Hey, it tastes the same no matter what you call it.

I tore apart my rear disc brake after stopping by the bike shop to pick up a new set of pads. I was shocked to find that the old pads were nonexistent. Unfortunately, they are the wrong type. I also lost a bit of brake fluid in the process--- hey, I'm new to this disc brakes on bikes thing. I guess I will need to drive to work tomorrow. I had earlier packed up the winter tires in the back-- and I mean back. Lise was going to take the car in, and we were worried about the child seat in the back. I was able to load all four tires behind the back seat of the station wagon in this cavernous car. There are no seats to fold down. I guess I will leave work a little early to have the tires swapped. I will be spending the afternoon playing innebandy- which is some sort of floor hockey. I am sure that I will feel every year of my age by the time I am finished. This is work related-- some sort of tournament for our office park. It is being played in a sports hall next door to home-- so I have no excuse. I was literally drafted for this duty. I guess I can take one for the team.

Stavanger Photos

There was a request in a recent comment that I post more photos from the "village" where I live. There are a boat load of them at flickr that have been taken by others. I live on a peninsula near beaches, mountains, flat farm land, and of course the ocean. This is probably not the part of Norway people think about when they see postcards, although pulpit rock is near here-- one of the largest tourist attractions in the country. The fact is, Norway is more modern than the US in many respects. Almost all of Stavanger is cabled for fiber optic internet, for example. Cell phone reception is amazing-- even in tunnels. Rather than a fishing village, think off-shore oil capital.

Seriously Ill-Prepared

This morning the temperature was hovering just above freezing. There was slushy snow outside, but nothing major. I opted to use the regular wheel set for my ride in. It was not big deal.

While at work, it started snowing, the temperature dropped, and the snow accumulated. It was going to be an interesting ride home without studded tires. I somehow managed, but there were some very slippery spots. I was amazed how well regular 2.1" mtn bike tires get by on regular snow, but I was slipping and sliding on icy pavement. I avoided as much pavement as possible, and made it home in one piece.

When I arrived home, Lise's mother and great-aunt were visiting. Lise's mother had asked me to fix her bike, which wouldn't stay in gear. I had asked if the gears were on the inside or outside, and was told "outside." I said I could fix it. Of course the bike ended up having an internal Nexus 3-speed hub. I was out of my league, but did my best-- and there was no way to test ride it. It seemed to not be skipping. Who knows. Those are such bulletproof hubs that it is quite possible that it is back in good form. I also tossed on the studded tires. No worries tomorrow morning.

There Goes the Neighborhood Revisited

Our neighbor's house was burglarized this afternoon- in the middle of the afternoon. It is disturbing on a number of fronts. We know the couple that lives there-- actually met them before they moved in and it was something of a coincidence that we became neighbors. It is a long story that sounds more complicated than it really is, but he is the brother of one of her friends who was a Norwegian living in the US. He works off-shore, so he is away for a few weeks at a time. They have a three month old girl.

Lise left the house with another neighbor across the street to walk down to Kvadrat (a mall having the dubious distinction of being Norway's largest). About the same time, our other neighbor left for a few hours. When she returned, her door was locked from the inside, which was odd. She then noticed silverware boxes open on the floor. She came over to our house at that point and called the police. When I came home, Lise had her hands full watching the two babies, and our neighbor was home with the police.

We later found out that the neighbor next door saw the burglar. She was a mid-20s female who was on foot and carrying a bag. She waited a long time at the front door, then went around to the side of the house. The witness didn't do anything, thinking she was a friend. She felt horrible when she found out what happened. Apparently she entered through a partially opened window in the back.

While the woman was on foot, and unable to take much, what she took completely mean-spirited. Their daughter was recently baptized, and several engraved silver gifts were taken-- as was the video recorder containing the tape of the first few months of their daughter's life. A laptop and other items were stolen. It has given me a new perspective on how our digital videos and photos are stored.

We live in a nice neighborhood on a dead-end street where cars are not even allowed to drive. Everyone here knows each other. It was just bad luck-- random, that she was burgled. (Sorry to be such a stickler here, but a detective friend pointed out that to be robbed would mean that the owner was home. )

On one hand, I appreciate that this wasn't some creepy guy who poses a threat to the physical safety of the people living around here. The police seem to think it is some drug addict. It takes a desperate person to do this in the middle of the day. All the belongings were easy to carry. She was on foot. But it truly stinks that the items she took hold so much more than their mere monetary value.

The other issue that makes this particularly disgusting is how unnecessary it is. Addicts are practically coddled in Norway. The corrections system is so liberal here that she could probably end up on some payroll to NOT commit any crimes-- and belong to a union-- and receive a lifetime supply of free drugs.

The Best Part of Waking Up

It is so difficult leaving a warm bed in the morning. This is compounded by Julian sleeping in our room. Every morning starts with two cups of espresso. It has become my new addiction. At least the days are growing noticeably longer-- I can feel it each day. Biking to work in the morning poses a few psychological barriers. It isn't much of a physical feat. This morning I woke up to a dusting of snow. I spend an hour working on my brakes last night before I realized that the rotors I had recently purchased were different than the stock brakes. I purchased narrower rotors- with the same outer diameter. These should work, but the fins were catching on the pads, making a noise that I originally thought was from a warped rotor in the rear. After microadjusting, they were finally in alignment. I was not about to switch wheels at this point, and the snow looked too light for studded tires. At least it was dry.

As I was leaving, I noticed it was raining. On a positive note, the rain had melted all the snow. Keep in mind, there was snow everywhere just a half hour earlier. I quickly changed into my rain gear. This proved to be a wise move, as the wind was very cold, and my ride was through sleet, snow, and rain. I felt like my nose was being sandblasted off my face when I hit the wind. It was probably the least pleasant commute to date- perhaps only rivaled by a commute where I broke a tire bead, or the time I broke the seat post.

As I approached the locker room area, I could tell that "Stinky Guy" had ridden to work. When I opened the door, the stench was overpowering, and the man himself was standing there. He must be lacking an olfactory system-- his rancid sour-smelling clothing almost make me nauseous. I don't even like the idea that my towel hangs anywhere in the vicinity of his clothing. I have contemplated bringing air fresheners, etc. but he doesn't commute often enough for me to remember.

As I shaved without a mirror in the shower, I encountered the worst feeling short of a medical procedure- catching my fingernail with the razor. I don't know what it is about this that makes it feel so uncomfortable, but I hate it. It only seems to occur when I don't have a mirror. Shaving "blind" is difficult enough as it is. I always miss spots and cut myself. You would think that after decades of shaving, I could "do it with my eyes closed," but somehow it isn't that easy. At least I had hot water today.

All Bundled Up

We take Julian for a walk daily-- well almost daily. Photos of our neighborhood here.

Food Processors

We have some fancy KichenAid food processor that was a wedding gift from the US. Of course we need to drag out a 60lb voltage converter to use it here. Lise typically uses it when she makes pizza (the best homemade pizza ever--- rivals most restaurant offerings). Anyway, I swear it takes more work to clean a food processor than the work it actually saves-- especially when used for dough. There are an infinite number of nooks and crannies where "processed food" can hide. It is like biodiesel-- a net loss in energy.

End of Week Recap

I biked every day, except Wednesday. It rained every day as well. Oddly, even if it is not raining at home in the morning, I have discovered that it will rain at some point during the commute. Tuesday I had the misfortune to see what appeared to be an accident in our neighborhood. I missed the actual incident, but it looked like a pedestrian had been hit and was still lying in the crosswalk. It took forever before I heard sirens. I hate seeing that sort of thing, no matter what the circumstances.

My boss is at our office in India. I am sitting this trip out. Usually his absence means that my "to do" list shrinks. This is not the case. In addition I need to prepare for our US trip in March. We will soon be hiring a VP of Sales in the US, which means I need a lift in job titles. Titles do not mean much to me-- but it looks like I will end up with something with the word "president" in it myself. It seems a little pretentious.

Julian had a good week-- until last night when it seemed he did not sleep at all. I still cannot believe how wonderful he is. He is noticeably heavier, has outgrown most of his newborn clothing, and is starting to smile. Some people suggest this is merely a reflex. I am convinced there is an advanced cognitive process that takes place- that he observes all the work everyone around him is doing- particularly his mother! He thinks to himself that all he has to do is scream, and someone feeds him. He can sleep all day, is waited on hand and foot (literally). He knows he does not even have to get up to go to the bathroom- he can pee and poop wherever he is. He knows what a cushy life he has-- and smiles, laughing inside at all of the rest of us. That is my theory, at least.

Today Lise had a doctor appointment, so she picked my up at work to watch Julian. The weather was beyond miserable, so I headed to a bakery downtown, near her doctor office. Before I could even take a bite of food, she phoned to say her appointment was done. It took all of four minutes-- in and out! In the US it could have taken an hour- although, to be fair, much of that hour consists of waiting. Waiting to sign in. Waiting to be seen. Waiting in your underwear in the exam room. Waiting for the doctor after the nurse takes your blood pressure. Waiting for the doctor to come back. Waiting for a lab. Maybe socialized medicine is not all that bad.

After the appointment, we headed to the immigration office to fix the typo on my residency visa. I found out that it expires early because my passport expires in May. At least I have an extra month. I also found out about the language requirement for permanent residency, and why I was confused. The law states that anyone who enters the country after Sept. 1, 2005 is required to take the classes. I entered on Novemeber 1 of that year-- after the date, which led me to believe I had to take the classes. But- my visa was issued in May of that year- before the date- and they go by the visa date, not the date that we actually moved here. At any rate, I am not complaining. She was the coolest immigration worker I have encountered in Norway.