In two weeks I fly to San Diego.
The past week I have spent the evenings on the phone, arranging meetings during the trip. I have been very focused-- no procrastinating for me.
Last Wednesday we had friends visiting us from the US. We had a great time. I have rarely had the opportunity to be a tourist here. Yesterday we took a boat tour up Lysefjord.
Other than that, it has been status quo. Lise is doing well. I am doing well. Hopefully I will be able to resume blogging in the near future.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Still Here
I have been rather quiet on the blogging front, primarily because I am so busy for work. I have been very busy with this new US initiative, and it is rather overwhelming. I must resist the urge to procrastinate. I am almost exclusively biking to work these days, but little else. Today the temperature was in the mid-40s, but at least it was dry.
The US ambassador embarassed himself by complaining that Norway's import tax that favors diesels discriminates against US automakers. I don't know what kind of drugs this bozo is taking, but who in their right mind wants or needs an American car in Norway? There are extra taxes on engine displacement and horsepower--- and probably weight. The speed limit is 90kph maximum. Roads are narrow. Cars are so expensive anyway that people finance them for up to 10 years. Most American cars are lucky to last that long.
How does someone even define a US-made vehicle in these age of globalism? Saabs are now Mazdas with a touch of GM. Volvo are Ford. Opal is GM. Mercedes is Chrysler. It never ends, and I am probably wrong about at least one of these relationships. Adding to the absurdity of his statements, Norway has the population of Wisconsin or Minnesota. I don't think a country of this size will help GM dig themselves out of their own grave.
As I close, I want you to close your eyes and imagine the following scenario. Actually, keep your eyes open so you can read the rest of this, first. Imagine if the income of each US citizen was posted on the internet for the entire world to see. Sound crazy? Well the annual tax list was released last week in Norway, and the national past-time of looking up everyone's income has begun anew. Thankfully I have zero income for 2005 in Norway, so you can move along. The media publishes lists of all the local richest people. It is all quite perverse in my estimation, particularly in a culture that avoids conspicuous displays of wealth (unlike the US).
On a related topic, the IRS doesn't like how we claimed my wife's student loan interest for 2004. I will have fun tracking down that documentation after moving across the world. She attended school in the US, but the loan origninated in Norway. If I recall, I claimed it for 2005 as well. Oh well...
We are finished painting, finally. New we can live in our house, rather than work. We are lucky to have a house! Already, it seems prices have risen dramatically. It is almost impossible to find anything that is not an apartment for under 3 million nok these days. Recently, a house went for over $100,000 more than its asking price. Land use is so controlled around here that it is doubtful that the real estate market will ever collapse.
The US ambassador embarassed himself by complaining that Norway's import tax that favors diesels discriminates against US automakers. I don't know what kind of drugs this bozo is taking, but who in their right mind wants or needs an American car in Norway? There are extra taxes on engine displacement and horsepower--- and probably weight. The speed limit is 90kph maximum. Roads are narrow. Cars are so expensive anyway that people finance them for up to 10 years. Most American cars are lucky to last that long.
How does someone even define a US-made vehicle in these age of globalism? Saabs are now Mazdas with a touch of GM. Volvo are Ford. Opal is GM. Mercedes is Chrysler. It never ends, and I am probably wrong about at least one of these relationships. Adding to the absurdity of his statements, Norway has the population of Wisconsin or Minnesota. I don't think a country of this size will help GM dig themselves out of their own grave.
As I close, I want you to close your eyes and imagine the following scenario. Actually, keep your eyes open so you can read the rest of this, first. Imagine if the income of each US citizen was posted on the internet for the entire world to see. Sound crazy? Well the annual tax list was released last week in Norway, and the national past-time of looking up everyone's income has begun anew. Thankfully I have zero income for 2005 in Norway, so you can move along. The media publishes lists of all the local richest people. It is all quite perverse in my estimation, particularly in a culture that avoids conspicuous displays of wealth (unlike the US).
On a related topic, the IRS doesn't like how we claimed my wife's student loan interest for 2004. I will have fun tracking down that documentation after moving across the world. She attended school in the US, but the loan origninated in Norway. If I recall, I claimed it for 2005 as well. Oh well...
We are finished painting, finally. New we can live in our house, rather than work. We are lucky to have a house! Already, it seems prices have risen dramatically. It is almost impossible to find anything that is not an apartment for under 3 million nok these days. Recently, a house went for over $100,000 more than its asking price. Land use is so controlled around here that it is doubtful that the real estate market will ever collapse.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Monster baby pram
(Barnevogn). I had my first run in with sticker shock for baby carriages. People take their baby carriages very seriously here in Norway. A base model Teutonia without any accessories starts at about $1000 for a new one. Last year's models are 25% off. But then you need the bags, including the bag for the baby. And they can cost another $500 to have the carriage 'properly' outfitted. It seems everyone has a carriage here in Norway, if they have babies at least. In the US, it seems that infants are rarely seen in public unless they are being carried from a car to a store. We ended up buying a two year old Teutonia used. It came with more bags then we know what to do with. Now we just need a baby to put in it.
I am painting so much that I have to dictate this blog to Lise. It is after 11pm and I'm still at it. Note from Lise: 'He is doing a fabulous job painting our living room'. I don't know what's come over me, but I wish I could bottle some of this energy for future use. Lise thinks it's the paint fumes. We finished the dining room in kiwi green, I think we can live with it. I am now applying 'sand' to the living room. But it looks more like a 'putty'. Special thanks goes to Lise for tolerating my ecclectic music collection.
I am painting so much that I have to dictate this blog to Lise. It is after 11pm and I'm still at it. Note from Lise: 'He is doing a fabulous job painting our living room'. I don't know what's come over me, but I wish I could bottle some of this energy for future use. Lise thinks it's the paint fumes. We finished the dining room in kiwi green, I think we can live with it. I am now applying 'sand' to the living room. But it looks more like a 'putty'. Special thanks goes to Lise for tolerating my ecclectic music collection.
Friday, September 22, 2006
Weather
This spring, it seemed summer would never arrived. I was concerned I would be stuck wearing long sleeves all year. I now believe that the season are later here. I am still biking to work in the early morning wearing short sleeves and bike shorts. It is in the mid-60s usually- in the morning, and the temperature rises just a little to the low 70s this time of year. I see back in Minneapolis it is about 10 degrees cooler these days. Maybe it isn't so bad here after all. With all the biking I do, I can't help obsessing over weather.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Editors
Coolest single in quite some time: The Editors, Blood. They are kind enough to give you the entire video. I had to laugh at an interview when the singer was asked what he thought about the comparisons people make between The Editors and Joy Division. He didn't see it at all.
Granted, it is over a year old, but if you want a flashback to the best of the 80s, check it out.
I have been manic painting the house, working late at the office, and avoiding sleep. I'm still calling it jetlag.
Granted, it is over a year old, but if you want a flashback to the best of the 80s, check it out.
I have been manic painting the house, working late at the office, and avoiding sleep. I'm still calling it jetlag.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Darn Kids!
Today I slept in, then took the Look out for a nice ride. The weather was incredible. Lise was driving her aunt and mother to the airport. Later we went out and picked paint for the living room and dining room. They had a new color chart, and impulsively, we unanimously changed our minds with no arguing. We only seem to argue over home improvement concepts. We also picked up a light fixture for the kitchen. This house came with very few lights, and it is dark earlier. It is 8:30pm and we have the last vestiges of twilight.
I came home and began refinishing the door to the front terrace. I then painted all the blue trim on the fence. The job went quite smoothly. When I was all finished and all cleaned up (with oil based paint), I noticed a set of human paw prints on the threshold from the sliding glass door to the rear terrace. There were further "paw" prints on our kitchen floor... and our new kitchen table. There was some blue-handed kid who snuck into our kitchen, leaving his handprints everywhere. I cleaned them up with mineral spirits (gotta love that name) and we resumed our dinner on our back terrace. Dinner was interrupted by a little black kitten who was starved for attention. Eventually this little guy mad a break for our open back door. He hopped on the wet paint on the threshold and left little blue kitty prints all over our kitchen floor. There was no winning tonight.
I came home and began refinishing the door to the front terrace. I then painted all the blue trim on the fence. The job went quite smoothly. When I was all finished and all cleaned up (with oil based paint), I noticed a set of human paw prints on the threshold from the sliding glass door to the rear terrace. There were further "paw" prints on our kitchen floor... and our new kitchen table. There was some blue-handed kid who snuck into our kitchen, leaving his handprints everywhere. I cleaned them up with mineral spirits (gotta love that name) and we resumed our dinner on our back terrace. Dinner was interrupted by a little black kitten who was starved for attention. Eventually this little guy mad a break for our open back door. He hopped on the wet paint on the threshold and left little blue kitty prints all over our kitchen floor. There was no winning tonight.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Jet Lag
I am back at work, back in Norway, back home.
It stinks going back to work when heading east. We were lucky to be on an Airbus to Amsterdam, but the video on demand systems kept me up much of the night. Nothing quite like watching the fantasy plane crash scene from Fight Club while on a plane.
We returned with twice as much luggage as we left with. I am hording shaving cream, so if you notice price fluctuations, you know why. There is almost no selection of shaving cream in Norway. It is probably the absolute worst thing about living here-- so you can see how much suffering I must endure. I also returned with some studded tires. If anyone can explain to me how Finnish Nokians are cheaper in the US than in Norway, I'm all ears.
What else? There is so much. The weather was warmer in Norway than it had been back in the states the past few days before we left. I was up late Wednesday, then rode to work Thursday. I was in a complete fog, albeit very productive. I had warned my boss that I turned into a hurricane while away. I did not disappoint. In my bedraggled state, I actually got off on the wrong floor when taking the stairs, much to the confusion of my coworkers. To be fair, our office was formerly located on that floor, albeit months ago.
Last night I had trouble sleeping, or maybe I only dreamt that I did. Fridays are always the worst mornings, since the crushing cacophany of monster garbage trucks churns trash inches from our open windows in the pre-dawn hours. This morning, I slept past the alarm. I had serious doubts morning had yet arrived, despite sunlight to the contrary. I laboriously rode to work again, cursing the hills and the giant slugs on the trail. It was warm, with that fall-like quality to the air-- the smell of fear that summer is almost over.
The same lame bike was parked near my spot again. I swore it hadn't moved. The previous day it was in the same spot, despite my unusually early arrival to work. I was convinced it was left there. I moved it a few inches. I probably broke some commuting taboo, but I had two locks attached to the post. I leave them there at night. The Kryptonite is developing a dermatological condition-- most likely rust. It is reluctant to open these days. It could probably use some grease. Anyway, I figure I have dibs on the parking spot, since the lock will outlast the building.
Work was uneventful, except the self-imposed stress from feeling my trip to the US was less productive than I had hoped-- from a work perspective. On the other hand, I feel renewed and invigorated about work. I feel validated beyone any shred of doubt that we made the best decision imaginable by moving to Norway. I harbor no fears about missing the US, no envy that life is better on the other side of the ocean. Call it cognitive dissonance or denial, but I think we have a great thing going on here. Except that I have to go to India again in October, then back to the US. It will be jet lag all over again.
I didn't think it would ever be possible to travel too much-- particularly when someone else is picking up the bill. While I am on that topic, I noticed something very disturbing at the Northwest website. Roundtrip tickets originating from Norway to the Minneapolis cost HALF as much as those originating from Minneapolis. Not that I don't benefit from the disparity, but since it is the same distances covered and the same exact routes (only backwards), what is the point? I stumbled across this when I was pricing first class upgrades. Of course, they cost ten times as much as flying economy out of Stavanger. That is too rich for me.
When I arrived home, I was spent. I did, however, manage to hook up a Vonage phone that I picked up in the US so American customers and partners can call me back domestically. I remember life working in the US when even making a long distance call was a paperwork fiasco, and international calls were next to impossible, if not outright blocked. I picked an east coast timezone so I don't receive calls too late, and a 203 area code, like I am from Connecticut just outside NYC, or something like that. Despite all the disclaimers, warnings, and so on, I managed to fool the system. It took my foreign credit card as I used an old US address. Vonage had no provisions for four digit zip codes, country codes, etc. Of course, if someone calls 911 from here, my parents are in for quite a surprise. In Norway, if not most of Europe, they use 111, 112, and 113-- or something like that. They are separated by ambulance, fire, and police, though I highly doubt in that order. A little secret here is that anyone can dial 911 regardless. I have no idea why they don't just use that for emergencies, although 111 is certainly more practical if you are in an awful hurry and you have a rotary phone. A lot can happen while that 9 is taking its time strolling around the dial.
The pregnancy seems to be going very well. All I can say is how amazing it all is. And that we have so much to do around the house!
It stinks going back to work when heading east. We were lucky to be on an Airbus to Amsterdam, but the video on demand systems kept me up much of the night. Nothing quite like watching the fantasy plane crash scene from Fight Club while on a plane.
We returned with twice as much luggage as we left with. I am hording shaving cream, so if you notice price fluctuations, you know why. There is almost no selection of shaving cream in Norway. It is probably the absolute worst thing about living here-- so you can see how much suffering I must endure. I also returned with some studded tires. If anyone can explain to me how Finnish Nokians are cheaper in the US than in Norway, I'm all ears.
What else? There is so much. The weather was warmer in Norway than it had been back in the states the past few days before we left. I was up late Wednesday, then rode to work Thursday. I was in a complete fog, albeit very productive. I had warned my boss that I turned into a hurricane while away. I did not disappoint. In my bedraggled state, I actually got off on the wrong floor when taking the stairs, much to the confusion of my coworkers. To be fair, our office was formerly located on that floor, albeit months ago.
Last night I had trouble sleeping, or maybe I only dreamt that I did. Fridays are always the worst mornings, since the crushing cacophany of monster garbage trucks churns trash inches from our open windows in the pre-dawn hours. This morning, I slept past the alarm. I had serious doubts morning had yet arrived, despite sunlight to the contrary. I laboriously rode to work again, cursing the hills and the giant slugs on the trail. It was warm, with that fall-like quality to the air-- the smell of fear that summer is almost over.
The same lame bike was parked near my spot again. I swore it hadn't moved. The previous day it was in the same spot, despite my unusually early arrival to work. I was convinced it was left there. I moved it a few inches. I probably broke some commuting taboo, but I had two locks attached to the post. I leave them there at night. The Kryptonite is developing a dermatological condition-- most likely rust. It is reluctant to open these days. It could probably use some grease. Anyway, I figure I have dibs on the parking spot, since the lock will outlast the building.
Work was uneventful, except the self-imposed stress from feeling my trip to the US was less productive than I had hoped-- from a work perspective. On the other hand, I feel renewed and invigorated about work. I feel validated beyone any shred of doubt that we made the best decision imaginable by moving to Norway. I harbor no fears about missing the US, no envy that life is better on the other side of the ocean. Call it cognitive dissonance or denial, but I think we have a great thing going on here. Except that I have to go to India again in October, then back to the US. It will be jet lag all over again.
I didn't think it would ever be possible to travel too much-- particularly when someone else is picking up the bill. While I am on that topic, I noticed something very disturbing at the Northwest website. Roundtrip tickets originating from Norway to the Minneapolis cost HALF as much as those originating from Minneapolis. Not that I don't benefit from the disparity, but since it is the same distances covered and the same exact routes (only backwards), what is the point? I stumbled across this when I was pricing first class upgrades. Of course, they cost ten times as much as flying economy out of Stavanger. That is too rich for me.
When I arrived home, I was spent. I did, however, manage to hook up a Vonage phone that I picked up in the US so American customers and partners can call me back domestically. I remember life working in the US when even making a long distance call was a paperwork fiasco, and international calls were next to impossible, if not outright blocked. I picked an east coast timezone so I don't receive calls too late, and a 203 area code, like I am from Connecticut just outside NYC, or something like that. Despite all the disclaimers, warnings, and so on, I managed to fool the system. It took my foreign credit card as I used an old US address. Vonage had no provisions for four digit zip codes, country codes, etc. Of course, if someone calls 911 from here, my parents are in for quite a surprise. In Norway, if not most of Europe, they use 111, 112, and 113-- or something like that. They are separated by ambulance, fire, and police, though I highly doubt in that order. A little secret here is that anyone can dial 911 regardless. I have no idea why they don't just use that for emergencies, although 111 is certainly more practical if you are in an awful hurry and you have a rotary phone. A lot can happen while that 9 is taking its time strolling around the dial.
The pregnancy seems to be going very well. All I can say is how amazing it all is. And that we have so much to do around the house!
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Cyclist Behaving Badly
A few days ago I was driving up River Road to borrow a bike from a friend. I saw some commotion at a stop sign. It was a guy wearing a full Grand Performance team kit, circa 1995, riding helmetless on a celeste Bianchi. He stopped, stepped off his bike, and was yelling and screaming like a lunatic, challenging a motorist to a fight. He looked silly enough riding without a helmet-- but picking a fight?
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Back in the US
I had no idea what to expect. I spent the weekend at my hometown for my class reunion. It was cool seeing people again, but most people did not make the effort to attend. The usual local boys were there, as were a few from the extended area. Still, there are several interesting people that I have not seen since graduation. My wife was likely bored out of her mind. She receives extra points for enduring the event without a drop of alcohol.
We are back in Minneapolis for a few days. We stopped in at work. It was an interesting experience. I really did not miss work, but it was good to see everyone again. I feel like we did our time in Minneapolis, that our work here was finished, and that it was time to move on. It wasn't nearly as emotional as it could have been.
Tommorrow I will bike. I gave a frameset to a friend before moving. He has since built it up into a cool fixed gear. Thanks Wayne!
What I don't miss about the US? It is difficult to explain. People are much more aggressive drivers. People blast their car stereos in parking lots. People are generally louder and larger than life in their public interactions (ie. scolding their kids, etc.). Manners and proper decorum are relatively rare in the US. On the other hand people are more superficially friendly, say hello to strangers, are more ingratiating, and so on. Beer and gasoline and dirt cheap here in the US. "American" cars look rather crude and unrefined. Distances between things are much further away. The sunlight looks different. It is hot here. All in all, I think I have settled in nicely in Norway. I miss the US much less than I thought. On the other hand, it seems like life in Norway is so far away-- that we never really left. Regardless, I am so thankful that we have what we have. I cannot imagine returning if we were struggling in Norway. As it is, returning only reinforces my belief that we made the right decision.
We are back in Minneapolis for a few days. We stopped in at work. It was an interesting experience. I really did not miss work, but it was good to see everyone again. I feel like we did our time in Minneapolis, that our work here was finished, and that it was time to move on. It wasn't nearly as emotional as it could have been.
Tommorrow I will bike. I gave a frameset to a friend before moving. He has since built it up into a cool fixed gear. Thanks Wayne!
What I don't miss about the US? It is difficult to explain. People are much more aggressive drivers. People blast their car stereos in parking lots. People are generally louder and larger than life in their public interactions (ie. scolding their kids, etc.). Manners and proper decorum are relatively rare in the US. On the other hand people are more superficially friendly, say hello to strangers, are more ingratiating, and so on. Beer and gasoline and dirt cheap here in the US. "American" cars look rather crude and unrefined. Distances between things are much further away. The sunlight looks different. It is hot here. All in all, I think I have settled in nicely in Norway. I miss the US much less than I thought. On the other hand, it seems like life in Norway is so far away-- that we never really left. Regardless, I am so thankful that we have what we have. I cannot imagine returning if we were struggling in Norway. As it is, returning only reinforces my belief that we made the right decision.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
Kan få to millioner M&M-kuler i finnerlønn
Funny how I jokingly blogged about the M&M reward, and next thing I know, the paintings resurfaces. Looks like the informant can have his candy, although he will have to eat them behind bars, where he is incarcerated for his role in the infamous NOKAS case.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
M&M Reward
How about 2 million M&Ms for returning Munch's Scream, stolen from an Olso museum? Any takers? They are the dark ones.
Heading to the US Tomorrow
I have been quiet, as I have been very busy getting work taken care of so we can leave tomorrow. I am looking forward to returning, but not looking forward to the flight, if that makes sense.
Friday, August 25, 2006
Criterium Tomorrow
I had about two minutes of excitement from when a coworker informed me there was a crit almost across the street, until I found out it cost about $100 to enter and it had a 40,000nok total purse. There are just three race categories: juniors, women, and men. To be fair, it includes a time trial, hour long crit, and a hundred mile road race. I believe it is the Skagen Crit that has been bumped from downtown due to road construction. I also believe it is for semi-pros. Regardless, I already missed the entry date--- like I would have even had a chance. At least I can always watch.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Interesting Day
I did not bike to work today. Rather we had the ultrasound at the hospital. As this is not a parenting blog, I will just leave it as this: it was one of the coolest things I have ever seen and experienced. We certainly knew there was something lively inside, as we have been able to feel him (as we found out today) for a few weeks already. Everything looks great and healthy. Also, we are further along that we realized-- are most likely looking at a Christmas baby, rather than in mid January. I realize billions of people have gone through pregnancy and birth, but when it happens to you, it is an entirely different story. I am so accustomed to tuning people out when they discuss such matters. Now I am beginning to relate.
After work, I went to an event sponsored by the British Embassy. The world's second largest oil messe is in town. I had a nice meeting with the Oslo representatives. I would have sworn they were Brits rather than Norwegian, by the way they spoke.
On a related note, the other day when I was cycling past the Statoil station down the street, I noticed they had constructed grandstands facing a gas pump. It made no sense until I saw the news last night. It is a hydrogen "pump." There are all sorts of hydrogen concept cars in town. They look cool, although the Mazda sports car mysteriously loses 140 horsepower when running on hydrogen.
What is wonderful about today's high oil prices is that companies can afford to drill responsibly. They have never paid so much attention to the environment (in the north sea) as they do today. Maybe there is hope for the future.
After work, I went to an event sponsored by the British Embassy. The world's second largest oil messe is in town. I had a nice meeting with the Oslo representatives. I would have sworn they were Brits rather than Norwegian, by the way they spoke.
On a related note, the other day when I was cycling past the Statoil station down the street, I noticed they had constructed grandstands facing a gas pump. It made no sense until I saw the news last night. It is a hydrogen "pump." There are all sorts of hydrogen concept cars in town. They look cool, although the Mazda sports car mysteriously loses 140 horsepower when running on hydrogen.
What is wonderful about today's high oil prices is that companies can afford to drill responsibly. They have never paid so much attention to the environment (in the north sea) as they do today. Maybe there is hope for the future.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Suit That Fits
Last October I purchased two new suits before moving here. It was probably not a smart time to buy clothes, since I had been biking 40 miles a day on my commutes to work. Commuting in particular keeps me in the perfect cardio zone. My suits fit perfectly.
By Christmas, after having no gym membership, constant rain, dark days, and general ennui, they no longer fit so well. They still fit, but not like they did a few months earlier. I next wore them after returning from the first trip to India-- over May 17th. We had eaten at four star restaurants nonstop for a week. Again, the fit just wasn't there.
Yesterday, everything was back to normal.
By Christmas, after having no gym membership, constant rain, dark days, and general ennui, they no longer fit so well. They still fit, but not like they did a few months earlier. I next wore them after returning from the first trip to India-- over May 17th. We had eaten at four star restaurants nonstop for a week. Again, the fit just wasn't there.
Yesterday, everything was back to normal.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Oslo
I flew to Oslo today- left at 8:15 and was home by 5:30ish. I spent less time in the air than I would spend in busy Twin Cities traffic. We had a great meeting. When I arrived home I noticed in the news that a Russian plane crashed. Not at all a happy thought.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Blue Monday
Not my mood, but an obscure New Order reference. We were looking out the office window at work and saw a huge ship heading toward Stavanger. Ola pulled up this site and we found out it was some 300m long cruise ship heading toward downtown. The info here is amazing. It is probably of little interest to anyone outside the region, but hey. Here it is.
Thunderstorm
Yesterday evening I could see huge thunderheads across the mountains- a rare sight. Gradually it grew darker and darker. Eventually I heard my first thunder around here. It made my day. There wasn't much, but it gave me a fix until I am back in the US.
This morning, there was a mammoth mushroom cloud over the ocean, illuminated by the sun rising in the east. At maybe seven or eight miles tall, it could easily be over a hundred miles away. It was a natural work of art.
I rode to work today. It was about 60-ish. Not too cool. Tomorrow I travel to Oslo for the day, so no biking to work. I am becoming intimately familiar with the Sola airport. I will be on Norwegian Airline, which is an experience. It is ideal for work travel. I grab my laptop bag, head straight to the gate, show my driver's license, and sit anywhere I want on the plane. No standing in line at check-in. We then catch a ticketless train to downtown Oslo. I swipe my credit card to board, and to leave the station. I am then charged for how far I have traveled. I know the routine already.
It was interesting having the Americans visiting. They spent most of their time on Kvitsøy at a summer home. They have already seen far more of Norway than I have. Our visits have been to see family in the past. Now that we live here, I only do work travel. I really need to explore this country more.
I am feeling much better today. I think that the air pollution in Chennai really started to affect me. It is too easy to take clean air and water for granted. India has neither.
Yesterday Lise picked a bunch of blackberries and blueberries growing wild in our neighborhood, then made a smoothie. Wild berries grow all over in this area. It isn't often we can be hunter-gatherers of our own food. For dinner we had cod that the Americans caught- another local food.
This morning, there was a mammoth mushroom cloud over the ocean, illuminated by the sun rising in the east. At maybe seven or eight miles tall, it could easily be over a hundred miles away. It was a natural work of art.
I rode to work today. It was about 60-ish. Not too cool. Tomorrow I travel to Oslo for the day, so no biking to work. I am becoming intimately familiar with the Sola airport. I will be on Norwegian Airline, which is an experience. It is ideal for work travel. I grab my laptop bag, head straight to the gate, show my driver's license, and sit anywhere I want on the plane. No standing in line at check-in. We then catch a ticketless train to downtown Oslo. I swipe my credit card to board, and to leave the station. I am then charged for how far I have traveled. I know the routine already.
It was interesting having the Americans visiting. They spent most of their time on Kvitsøy at a summer home. They have already seen far more of Norway than I have. Our visits have been to see family in the past. Now that we live here, I only do work travel. I really need to explore this country more.
I am feeling much better today. I think that the air pollution in Chennai really started to affect me. It is too easy to take clean air and water for granted. India has neither.
Yesterday Lise picked a bunch of blackberries and blueberries growing wild in our neighborhood, then made a smoothie. Wild berries grow all over in this area. It isn't often we can be hunter-gatherers of our own food. For dinner we had cod that the Americans caught- another local food.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Class Reunion
Warning: the following blog post is decidedly maudlin. The self-serving remarks are the sole result of posting on a Sunday, and are not the views normally held by the author on any other days of the week. Tomorrow we will return to your regularly scheduled postings of biking, work, and life in Norway.
My twenty year class reunion is nearing--- Labor Day weekend. It will be our first time back in the US since we moved. I must be getting old and sentimental, because I actually am looking forward to this.
For many years, I had a real ambivalence about the 80s and my high school experience. Pardon me while I wax autobiographical for a moment. I am from a small town that much resembles Mayberry. It has changed a little with the recent influx of Mexican laborers who work in the non-union factories in town— and from the newly built riverboat casino. But back when I lived there, it was your typical mid-American town of about 2000 people.
I don’t think it is any secret that I really didn’t like living there at the time. There were simply too few people. I graduated in a class of 54 students. It is just a step or two beyond a one room school house. But don’t think for a minute that the size of the school had anything to do with academic quality. Our class was off the charts in standardized test results, college entrance exams, etc. Hey, it was Iowa. At least I realized that high school would never be “the best years of my life.” My goal was to get a decent education and go off to college. Beyond that I had no clue what I would do.
I also figured out that I could get an almost free education through scholarships, so I threw myself at getting good grades and ended up with a bunch of scholarships that paid for most of my education at a private university—but that is another story altogether. Somehow, I ended up as class valedictorian. It generally is not the best path to social popularity to be that academic, but it was a small town where everyone played a variety of roles. I doubt I could have ever played football or basketball as I had, if I went to a metro school.
With just 54 students, we all knew each other too well. Most of us began kindergarten together. I think I knew everyone’s parents. There is something claustrophobic about spending years in that kind of environment, where most peoples’ destinies are well-established before first grade. But it doesn’t really matter. We were all in the same boat, and tried to make the best of it. I am sure that if I went to a huge school, there would have been an entirely different set of “issues.”
To make high school even more challenging, at the height of my need to establish my independence, I was attending the same school where my father taught. Children of known authority figures, like clergy, police, or teachers, are usually socially doomed in some way. Actually, I think that I managed the circumstances OK. In hindsight, I didn’t have to endure any of the cruel hazings that many of my classmates went through. So my parentage definitely had some benefits.
Of course, life at college quickly confirmed how different life could be elsewhere. I loved college life— for the most part. Some of the late-80s materialism was a bit much, and career-wise, with a full twelve years of Reagan-Bush politics, I was a little nihilistic by the end. MBA grads were taking tickets in movie theaters— I certainly wasn’t ramping up to fit into a specific career. Besides, everyone drummed that businesses all want liberal arts grads. That was a myth that should have been debunked a long time ago. But there I was. I figured my major really wouldn't matter much anyway. We were all supposed to be dead from a nuclear blast well before my student loans would ever be paid off. It was a real zeitgeist.
I never really kept in touch with my high school classmates. I attended the five and ten year reunions. I skipped number 15, as it seemed to be a meaningless interval. Five years is probably too soon. Not much happens the first five years anyway.
My parents are not from the town where they still live. I doubt they ever imagined they would live there the rest of their lives when they moved there some 40 years ago. We have no ancestral roots there. I actually wouldn’t object if they retired somewhere warm, but I don’t see that happening. Most of my classmates who still live in the area probably have family going back at least 100 years. I have never felt those kinds of roots, but I respect those that do.
It is strange that I ended up so far from home— in Norway of all places. I can assure you that there was nothing in my past that would have predicted this. I was the guy who turned down a semester abroad during college because, well, I really don’t know. Somehow I had some idea that travel abroad was really, really foreign. I had never flown on a commercial plane until I was in my mid-20s. Before meeting my wife, I had only flown three times. Now, there are some months when I fly three times.
I guess where I am going with this is that for me, this reunion is a little like holding a mirror to my life. I really don’t care to compare my life with what my classmates have done, although I am sure some comparisons are inevitable. Rather, it symbolizes “what have I done the past twenty years?” Twenty years? I was only 17 when I graduated!
When I think back to being 17, nothing in my life has turned out like I expected it to—mainly because I had no expectations. I had no game plan, no timelines, no agenda. Some people may consider that to be a little aimless or unfocused, but all along the way my needs have always been met. Besides, getting there is half the fun. On the big things, like moving to Norway, we carefully planned and mapped out as much as we could. But even so, it involved a huge leap of faith, since not everything can be planned —we had no jobs waiting for us, for example.
Rather than regarding these “how did I get here” absurdities as Zelig moments, they just illustrate how small the world is, and how easy it is to reshuffle the deck and make huge changes with our lives.
But back to the reunion: I am genuinely looking forward to it. It is interesting how time can color my perspective. We all went to the same school and shared most of the same realities for a major portion of our most formative years. All things considered, I had it easy in high school compared to many people. And I don’t take myself too seriously to be able to see those years for what they really were- a rather innocent time when we weren’t really kids and we weren’t yet adults. And I could have lived in a larger city or attended a larger school and faced an entirely different set of issues, or my life may have turned out exactly the same way.
There is really only one thing missing in my life, and that is well on its way and due in January. OK, in all fairness, that is also something we carefully planned out. They say no one is really ever ready to be parents, but can’t imagine that we would ever be more ready.
My twenty year class reunion is nearing--- Labor Day weekend. It will be our first time back in the US since we moved. I must be getting old and sentimental, because I actually am looking forward to this.
For many years, I had a real ambivalence about the 80s and my high school experience. Pardon me while I wax autobiographical for a moment. I am from a small town that much resembles Mayberry. It has changed a little with the recent influx of Mexican laborers who work in the non-union factories in town— and from the newly built riverboat casino. But back when I lived there, it was your typical mid-American town of about 2000 people.
I don’t think it is any secret that I really didn’t like living there at the time. There were simply too few people. I graduated in a class of 54 students. It is just a step or two beyond a one room school house. But don’t think for a minute that the size of the school had anything to do with academic quality. Our class was off the charts in standardized test results, college entrance exams, etc. Hey, it was Iowa. At least I realized that high school would never be “the best years of my life.” My goal was to get a decent education and go off to college. Beyond that I had no clue what I would do.
I also figured out that I could get an almost free education through scholarships, so I threw myself at getting good grades and ended up with a bunch of scholarships that paid for most of my education at a private university—but that is another story altogether. Somehow, I ended up as class valedictorian. It generally is not the best path to social popularity to be that academic, but it was a small town where everyone played a variety of roles. I doubt I could have ever played football or basketball as I had, if I went to a metro school.
With just 54 students, we all knew each other too well. Most of us began kindergarten together. I think I knew everyone’s parents. There is something claustrophobic about spending years in that kind of environment, where most peoples’ destinies are well-established before first grade. But it doesn’t really matter. We were all in the same boat, and tried to make the best of it. I am sure that if I went to a huge school, there would have been an entirely different set of “issues.”
To make high school even more challenging, at the height of my need to establish my independence, I was attending the same school where my father taught. Children of known authority figures, like clergy, police, or teachers, are usually socially doomed in some way. Actually, I think that I managed the circumstances OK. In hindsight, I didn’t have to endure any of the cruel hazings that many of my classmates went through. So my parentage definitely had some benefits.
Of course, life at college quickly confirmed how different life could be elsewhere. I loved college life— for the most part. Some of the late-80s materialism was a bit much, and career-wise, with a full twelve years of Reagan-Bush politics, I was a little nihilistic by the end. MBA grads were taking tickets in movie theaters— I certainly wasn’t ramping up to fit into a specific career. Besides, everyone drummed that businesses all want liberal arts grads. That was a myth that should have been debunked a long time ago. But there I was. I figured my major really wouldn't matter much anyway. We were all supposed to be dead from a nuclear blast well before my student loans would ever be paid off. It was a real zeitgeist.
I never really kept in touch with my high school classmates. I attended the five and ten year reunions. I skipped number 15, as it seemed to be a meaningless interval. Five years is probably too soon. Not much happens the first five years anyway.
My parents are not from the town where they still live. I doubt they ever imagined they would live there the rest of their lives when they moved there some 40 years ago. We have no ancestral roots there. I actually wouldn’t object if they retired somewhere warm, but I don’t see that happening. Most of my classmates who still live in the area probably have family going back at least 100 years. I have never felt those kinds of roots, but I respect those that do.
It is strange that I ended up so far from home— in Norway of all places. I can assure you that there was nothing in my past that would have predicted this. I was the guy who turned down a semester abroad during college because, well, I really don’t know. Somehow I had some idea that travel abroad was really, really foreign. I had never flown on a commercial plane until I was in my mid-20s. Before meeting my wife, I had only flown three times. Now, there are some months when I fly three times.
I guess where I am going with this is that for me, this reunion is a little like holding a mirror to my life. I really don’t care to compare my life with what my classmates have done, although I am sure some comparisons are inevitable. Rather, it symbolizes “what have I done the past twenty years?” Twenty years? I was only 17 when I graduated!
When I think back to being 17, nothing in my life has turned out like I expected it to—mainly because I had no expectations. I had no game plan, no timelines, no agenda. Some people may consider that to be a little aimless or unfocused, but all along the way my needs have always been met. Besides, getting there is half the fun. On the big things, like moving to Norway, we carefully planned and mapped out as much as we could. But even so, it involved a huge leap of faith, since not everything can be planned —we had no jobs waiting for us, for example.
Rather than regarding these “how did I get here” absurdities as Zelig moments, they just illustrate how small the world is, and how easy it is to reshuffle the deck and make huge changes with our lives.
But back to the reunion: I am genuinely looking forward to it. It is interesting how time can color my perspective. We all went to the same school and shared most of the same realities for a major portion of our most formative years. All things considered, I had it easy in high school compared to many people. And I don’t take myself too seriously to be able to see those years for what they really were- a rather innocent time when we weren’t really kids and we weren’t yet adults. And I could have lived in a larger city or attended a larger school and faced an entirely different set of issues, or my life may have turned out exactly the same way.
There is really only one thing missing in my life, and that is well on its way and due in January. OK, in all fairness, that is also something we carefully planned out. They say no one is really ever ready to be parents, but can’t imagine that we would ever be more ready.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
End of Week Recap
Tuesday was a blur- catch-up after a week out of the office. Wednesday flew by as well. I picked up my mountain bike after sending it on Monday for its three month checkup. The bearing was fixed, and the shifting is perfect. I would have fixed both, but I just didn't have the time. I was annoyed that they wet lubed my chain, but I guess it is a matter of taste. This isn't my rain bike. Afterward I picked up some American friends and helped get them to the ferry. Thursday? I can barely remember. Friday I think that I started to crack. I have been running at full speed for weeks. I just didn't feel right and left work early, having no energy. Later we went to Kvitsoy. I returned on the mid-morning ferry, and Lise on the evening ferry. I am still tired. Next week I travel to Oslo for the day on Tuesday. I am booked full until we leave for the US at the end of the month. I need a vacation, but I fear it will be even more running around as we scramble to see everyone.
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