Glogg and Nazi's....

Today was the official Sunday kick off of the holiday season in sleepy little Lund. There was a carnival in the city center, several holiday markets in various cultural buildings, marching bands, glogg (holiday cider) on tap, winerkorv (bratwurst) cooking on open flames, a celebrity policeman named Patrick, a neo-Nazi protest/rally and another marching band. It’s surreal to sit here and think that I managed to pack that all into the course of only about 6 hours.

Hanife asked me a week ago if I wanted to go with her to explore the cultural offering Lund was going to have on Sunday. I obliged and so it was set….We set out shortly after 10:30 this morning. As we trudged to the city center things appeared calm and ordinary. The giant cathedral was the hub of the morning commotion as the faithful poured in to bless all that is their life. We ushered inside as I still had yet to see the inside of the large church in Lund. Not an empty seat in the house….standing room only. The whole place was filled with candles; the illumination lit the faces of everyone inside. The bell tower struck 11:00 and the sermon was soon to start. We shuffled back outside and continued on our day…..

The second stop was Kulturen where the large holiday mart was underway. There was a 30sek fee to go inside. Me, the perennial cheap skate felt that it was a bit ridiculous to pay for the privilege to go shopping. We made our way around the perimeter of the fortress…looking for a side door or a narrow window in which to enter. To no avail we gave up….

Moving on, we entered the first city square of Lund. Kids were singing holiday songs on the temporary stage and the smell of (non-alcholic) glogg was in the air. I opted for a delicious glass of the sugary cider and bought Hanife one for good measure. At that exact moment I spotted Lund’s most notable celebrity…Patrick the policeman. Notably, Hanife is completely in love with this guy. This was our chance to make her wishes come true and snap a photo for her to swoon over forever more. We began to creep into close proximity to the elusive Patrick. We snapped a couple of paparazi shots with him in the background. The excitement of the sighting paralyzed us with adrenalin so much so we were unable to approach him to ask for a posed photo. A fleeting moment it was as he was signaled away to a ‘call’…..

While disappointed that we missed our big chance, we pushed on to the other city square. There were the typical market offerings, mixed with holiday nick-knacks available for purchase…..we decided it was time for a cup of coffee. We moved on to the local 7-11 where we knew we could sit and watch people walk by on the street. As we sipped our coffee life unfolded. Patrick…again! Only this time he was coming in to the same store as us to have himself a cup of coffee. Could it be…twice in one day? We tried to play it cool…Hanife’s heart was about to pound a hole straight through her new woolen coat….this time we had to act. I stood up from my perch and said ‘Patrick…hello, my name is Jeff…do you think my friend could get a picture with you?’ We nervously introduced ourselves and engaged in some chit chat which led to the climax….a picture with the policeman. After Hanife regained consciousness, we moved back outside. It was time for the festivities to begin.

We moved back to the small square where I had a winerkorv med brod as we watched a live auction raising funds for something that my limited Swedish couldn’t translate. It was about this time that we learned of a protest to a subsequent rally in which a gathering of neo-Nazi faithful were to show their faces in Lund. The rally was to kick off at 2:30….

We hustled to the main train station where the protest was to be staged. As soon as we got close we could hear sirens amidst frequent booms that sounded like small bombs. Smoke bellowed from a distant street corner. Policeman in full riot gear created a barricade on the main road and were advancing on the gathered group of several thousand strong. Cobblestones from the very street in which the riot was unleashing were being dug out by masked hooligans wielding screwdrivers as shanks. Bottles and cobblestones were launched at the police from within the crowd. The scene was madness. Hanife and I found ourselves smack dab in the middle of this….somehow on the front line of the altercation. I couldn’t disseminate who was who in the clash and if we were in danger or not. I kept her close as I thought the last place a Muslim Turkish girl is safe is alone in the midst of a neo-Nazi anything. Muzzled dogs were at the officers sides….chanting from the crowd drowned out the barking. The scene was anarchy. We made our retreat to a safe rear of the action. It was at this point I asked a Swede what was going on….he informed us that the group we were watching was the Nazi protestors. They wanted at the neo-Nazi’s assembled at the far end of the street. With that knowledge I now knew that we weren’t in any real danger…other than the unlikely misfortune of a bottle or brick to the head from a misguided projectile tossed from our flank. I decided it was safe for us to make our move through the police line to the assembly at the opposite end from where we were. After all, we had both been looking for something exciting to do all day…. I’ll be damned if I wasn’t going to be in the middle of this little trife. As we shuffled along another commotion broke out….the police were retreating and moving to a new post….the protestors were trying to flank the assembly from another street. As the police turned and trotted to a new post we followed, now at the front line of the advancing mob…we moved stealth like to a vantage point where we could see both sides engage for the first time. The organized neo-Nazi congregation was completely surrounded by uniformed officers. Their members held homemade shields and red colored wooden clubs. Despite their collected prowess there was absolutely no way they would leave Lund unharmed if it wasn’t for police protection. At the height of the altercation the pro Nazi followers were easily outnumbered 100 to one. We chased the action around the city for about an hour or so…at one point the mob moved to the center of campus where there was a marching band playing holiday songs outside….it was a surreal contrast. A giddy marching band complete with baton twirlers, over their shoulders bottle throwing hooligans engaging a riot with uniformed officers. Children in strollers and happy families munching saffron knackerbrod while nearby, masked misfits rummaged through last nights bar rubbish looking for unbroken bottles to arm their efforts. I guess there are stranger things in this life…..

Shortly after, we lost interest in the now mild riot that was all but smudged silent. We returned to ground zero (city square) and purchased another round on glogg to sip on as we reflected on what we just witnessed. We strolled through the people packed streets and did a bit of window browsing under the many holiday lights that now are strewn about the main streets. Say goodbye to November. December is almost here.

Thanks....

Thanksgiving is by far my favorite holiday of the year....as an adult (relatively speaking) I no longer generate many 'wants', at least the kind that come gift wrapped and fit under a tree, so Christmas is every year a further and further second to the annual gluttony of Turkey Day. Whether you call it Thanksgiving or some other derivative, the core (eating and drinking) family gathering should be essential in every culture. If it happens to center around the consumption of a 10 kilo bird than even better....

This year I can be especially thankful for what life has afforded me. I long yearned for 'distant shores' and a new perspective on this marble in which we live. Some sort of adventure to belittle the not always humble me. So, on the heels of that confessional I will give thanks to all those who came before, those who showed up today, and those who I have yet to meet in the always present future.

Condoms & Kangaroos

Yet another interesting week here in Swedish society. The big news from the north comes from Västtrafik (Gothenburg transit operator) who removed a 'potentially offensive' print ad from their transit displays. The ad featured a young man (with another young man in the background) with the words 'Vill du se oss sätta på en kondom?' printed across the top. The translation: 'Do you want to see us put on a condom?' Underneath the print ad in smaller letters was an invitation to text message a code through your mobile phone to a server in which you would be returned a 'tongue in cheek demonstration of how to put on a condom'. Now, here is where I started thinking, what exactly was the 'potentially offensive' part of the ad? Doesn't the mainstream media, politicians, countless non-governmental agencies, national boards of health, your family doctor, your future partners, your 5th grade human growth and development teacher, your parents and rap sensation 50 Cent all preach safe sex and the use of such contraception? It seems like that's not the reason why the ad was offensive.... Ok, so is it the fact that the ad may portray homosexual relationships as safe and responsible instead of the gin fueled cocaine snorting orgies that 52.3% of California residents voted as their perceived reality when deciding on prop 8? It seems like this is unlikely as well. We live in an era where technology creates virtual relationships with no meaning, in an era where realities are twisted on Wisteria Lane and than streamed through your Tivo during prime time, in an era where the odds of a couple getting married (straight or gay) and NOT getting divorced are less than half, in an era where a vice presidential candidate can force a shot gun wedding in the national limelight to appease her religious neophyte following by demonstrating 'responsibility' against all odds, in an era where we still continue to exaggerate the differences between one another despite the continual rhetoric about equality it seems like if we each took a quick gut check we'd come to the conclusion that we should stay the hell out of each others bedrooms (and lives) and shouldn't let a silly thing like who's sleeping with who bother us. So, if homosexuality isn't the offensive part than that leaves only one possibility....cell phones! That's it...this may be our culprit. The use of the mobile to solicit the video makes the advertisement interactive. While that may sound brilliant it generates yet one more opportunity to use this intrusive devise that already consumes more time than reading in most people's lives. Funny thing is that I say that on the nose of a large pitch today as the financial arm of a mobile platform development start up that we're trying to launch from within our program. I guess hypocrisy is an unavoidable reality to progress. Oh, and lastly, the interactive display would be way cooler if it used QR codes to access the video. SMS is so 2007.

Moving on to a more uplifting topic.... Walter, the 8 month old orphan kangaroo living in Ystad had a chance this week to hop around and play in the snow. His development is moving along nicely and with any luck he'll soon be healthy enough to move on to a new life in the zoo with some of his fellow 'mates'. Walter, what an adorable name for a joey, was orphaned when his mother suddenly died of a heart failure. It's reported that Walter is eager to get on to his new life with his fellow marsupials, so much so that he even scratches at the door of his keepers home in an attempt to get closer to those he now can call friends (mates). Good luck Walter!

The Week In Review....

Busy times here in Sweden. It's been a roller coaster week....extremely positive though. This past Monday I learned that I was a finalist in a business idea contest that I entered. The contest was part of Global Entrepreneurship Week sponsored by the Kauffman Foundation. The prize for four lucky winners was a trip to Hong Kong. I was extremely happy about being considered for this prize. The ceremony was in Copenhagen at the Copenhagen Business School on Wednesday. Since I really enjoy Copenhagen I wanted to make the most of my day. I set out on the 9:30 train from Lund and made it to Copenhagen an hour later. When I got to the city I basically set out to wander around and see what I could see before I needed to hike the 5k to the school for the ceremony.....

The building above is one of the cool things about Copenhagen. It's a weather dial more or less on the side of a building. The temperature is shown by the neon lights, and the forecast can be found by looking at which statue is present on the top. If it's the girl with the bike then it's sunny and nice, if it's the girl with the umbrella...well, it's rainy and not so nice. When it's half and half...well, that's just Scandanavia this time of year I think.

Further down I found this great outdoor food bazar. It was an international food market complete with FREE samples!! Lunch was served. Since I was dressed nicely for the afternoon presentation, I was able to get three full laps in on the sample trays before people started looking at me with that typical 'here comes that scumbag again' look. Meats from Germany, crepes from France, candies from the UK, palella from Spain, and wooden shoes from Holland? Maybe Holland missed the part about 'food' on the international food market invitation flyer....

Everytime I've been to Copenhagen, wheter it be really late at night, early in the morning, raining, or sunny, there are always people out and about, walking on the main pedestrian streets. It makes the city inviting to explore.

Of course no trip to Copenhagen is complete without at least a stop off in Nyhavn. The harbor borough sits at the end of the long pedestrian causeways in the city. It's a simply stunning place if you catch it on a sunny day. For me the weather was gray, but the place still had its charm. The boats looked somber and tired for winter was ahead.

At this point in my day the weather turned a bit colder and the rain came in a bit harder. I thought I should find shelter, get my bearings and prepare my route for the hike to the ceremony. What better place to do this at than a (covered) street meat kiosk! One french hot dog later I was off to the ceremony. The walk itself took me to the north and west of downtown to the district of Frederiksberg. I really liked this place as I walked through it. It was a bit rough around the edges in that 'you're totally safe here' kind of way. There were cigar and tobacco shops that lined several blocks....occasionally you'd get a whiff of an old salty Dane pulling a puff from his wooden pipe as he passed you by on the street. Finally I arrived at the school. I made my way to the ceremony and mingled with the masses until they announced the winners. Sadly enough I wasn't selected. After learning the scope of the ideas they did select I was happy to pass on this trip. I've found more exciting concepts starring into a bowl of bean soup then what these people came up with. Boring.

Anyways, the rest of my week was pretty much focused on program work. There is an incredible amount of opportunity here, it seems like I learn about something new every day that excites me. However, it's that age old problem I have where I want to be a part of all of it and I spread myself too thinly across the board.

A few sidenotes to the week. It snowed here in Lund...we got probably 6 inches, which translates to three inches of snow and 34" of ice....I'm thinking it would have been good to bring crampons and an ice ax from Colorado.....

I have been doing a bit of environmental work while I've been here. The main topic has been micro carbon credits and their use as an economic driver of rural development in under developed countries. As part of that I reached out and reconnected with Dr. Henry Liu who is the inventor of the Green Brick. There are some really positive things happening with that project right now....as you know, I'm always up for a good chat about fly ash.....

The group I've been working with on developing a mobile platform for cellular phones landed a huge meeting for this next week. We're meeting with the largest aggregator of mobile technologies in Sweden. I'll have to dust off the suit for this one.....

Last but not least, the holiday lights are up in the city center now. It really feels like the holiday season is upon us. I tried to convince a group of my classmates that we should go caroling to finance a holiday party......I think I had them sold on it until I mentioned that I wouldn't actually be singing, but that I would be handling logistics and management of the operation. The wheels kind of fell off the pitch shortly after.

Sunshine....You're Mine....

Today was an interesting day......I awoke a bit groggy as I stayed up until about 2:30 last night looking at highly complicated Ryan Air flights around Europe trying to make total use of their 1 million seat blowout sale. Despite the roughly 5 hours of sleep I awoke a bit inspired....and on a Monday? It was kind of a strange sensation...I didn't know what it was at first and then I realized....the sun was out!! It wasn't raining!! There was an amazing sunrise that hung low in the sky and painted the whole of Lund in an amazing array of pinks and pastels. This is one nice thing about living in a place where it's dark both late into the morning and early into the night this time of year...you get to see the sun come and go each day without having to alter your routine to do so. I really do think there is something magical about the way the sun comes and goes in this part of the world. So, while all you Colorado natives will look at the pics below and think...what's the big deal about sun on a building? Well, let me tell you bucko...you just go on and enjoy your 300+ days a year of the beaming rays....I'll get my sunshine from pictures (god that's depressing)....


Sleepy little cobblestones....


Sunshine....is that you I see?



My glory...my goodness...I think it is....



Yes! That's it....Let is shine!



Sunshine at last....maybe it will last all winter?

Barry Gibb, Britain's Real 'Liquidity' Problem, and a Policeman Named Patrick

Today was kind of a lazy day. By lazy I mean completely useless and a total waste of oxygen. At one point I made my way to my kitchen and grabbed some peanut butter and a cracker, but that was about the extent of my output. That being said, I did have a chance to catch up some much needed news and internet surfing. So here goes, some b-side news from across the pond.

This past week I celebrated the 7 month anniversary of my last haircut. Now while it's my intent to make it a full year without chopping these flowing locks it is starting to turn into a bit of a rat's nest atop my skull. Therefore I have been keeping my eyes open for a certain 'look' that may just enhance the overall appearance I present on a daily basis. Enter Barry Gibb. Now for those of you who don't know this former king of pop here's a link to his Wikipedia page. Highlights from his past....formed the Bee Gees, married a beauty pageant winner, and was voted biggest heart throb ever in 2008 by Rolling Stones magazine (somebody should check me on that). Sounds like we've found a winner.

In an episode of this week's Colbert Report, Steven mentioned a story that was breaking in London. Apparently the British are low on sperm donors and their (sperm) banks are about to fail. Now, I understand that we are in the midst of a global economic meltdown, but come on....are we really that uneasy about the solvency of the banking system that we're unwilling to part ways with even these kinds of deposits? Ryanair (European discount airline) is having a 1 million seat blowout extravaganza all weekend long. You can book flights for Dec/Jan at incredibly low prices....for example, a flight from Goteborg Sweden to Frankfurt Germany is 2 euro round trip with taxes and fees if you book it before Monday. You can see where I'm going with this..... I'm thinking as a little Christmas treat to the Brits I use a few days of my winter break to jump on a jet...buzz over to Britain....fill a few tubes...take in the sights, snap a few pictures of Big Ben and make it back to Sweden in time for Christmas. As added benefit, I may be able to solve this little visa issue I'm still having at the same time. I mean, if I have a 'bun in the oven' in London I don't think the EU wants to kick the babies father back to the states before the 'big day' do they?

The second day after my arrival in Sweden I attended a welcome meeting for all incoming masters students. It was a basic meet and greet presentation. The highlight of the presentation was a policeman named Patrick. Typically I would be the last person to feel any bit inspired by the boys in blue, but this guy was genuinely great. He was funny and informative as well as (according to every female in Lund) incredibly handsome. On a side note, I recently joined the masses of people in this world that participate in the social networking site Facebook. So far my membership in this 'community' has caused far more trouble than good, but it is the single source of information about what's going on in Lund so I'm kind of trapped. The other day I was posting a note on the 'wall' of a friends profile in Facebook and noticed that she is a member of a 'group' called 'Patrick The Policeman In Lund'....this guy has his own Facebook group? Yes he does in fact, and he has 204 members (stalkers) who have joined the group. There are pictures of his patrol car as well as numerous threads about his ruggedly handsome good looks. I've begun working on tshirt designs to capitalize on this opportunity.....stay tuned.

Dublin and Belfast Exposed

I finally got batteries for my camera. I know that's not a good excuse for not posting pics sooner, but it's all I got. So.....here's some pics and a brief blurb on each.

Trinity College Campus. Quite the courtyard.

A nice walking street in Dublin. All roads lead to the church...you sinners!

St. Patrick's Cathedral. The tower is under construction so I left that side out of the photo.

The real institution of Ireland. The Guiness Brewery. Notice the gravity bar to the left side of the tanks....it's the highest vantage point in Dublin and a great place for a pint!

A 'thirsty' Jeffrey and Justin.

Sunset from the gravity bar....high atop Dublin.

The river Liffey in Dublin.

Breaking bread in Belfast. Irish stew and some pints at the Crown Bar.

Main city center in Belfast. The union jack flies proud from her perch.

Belfast is a bit rough around the edges.....razor wire around the churches is a nice touch.

Belfast city center at night.

Good morning (unless you're the pig of course)! Breakfast at the market square in Belfast.


A UK version of an SUV.

Queen's college in Belfast. The picture doesn't do the place justice.


The infamous 'black cab'. These hunks of iron provide taxi service on the cheap around Belfast. Make sure you have enough pounds for the fare ahead of time. These cabs have a strange way of making people 'disappear' in the night.

Swedish (full contact) Sport Of Queuing

This afternoon my project partner and I spent a great deal of time working on our current marketing plan for a concept we'll be pitching later this week. It was a productive session and should pave the way for a productive rest of the week. As a treat to myself, to celebrate the work we had done, I decided I would stop by Netto on my way home and pick up some Nordic Cake. These tasty little treats are one of the best discoveries that I've stumbled upon since I landed in Scandinavia. They are basically miniature pies with a buttery crust, sugary mash of an inside, and toasted almonds on top. Yummy!

The grocer that is right near my home is a discount food retailer called Netto. They are a Danish company that specializes in no frills shopping. They carry the basic staples of a Swedish diet, but little else. They are the perfect place to stop in for a jar of tomato sauce or (in my case) a package of Nordic Cake on your way home from campus. Once inside a Netto you are bombarded with randomness. For example, tonight when I walked in the door there was a giant crate of ramen noodles, next to a giant crate of coffee, next to a giant crate of a product called Gloog. No prices on any of it (assuming you wanted to buy any of it). It's yet another thing I've just come to accept about this place. Anyways, I grabbed my Nordic Cake and a package of potato hash for the morning and made my way to the checkout. Here is the best part of a trip to Netto. The queue.....

Swedes refer to any line (of people) as a queue. Anyone who is in a queue is referred to as queuing. Anyone that queues competitively is locking horns in the Swedish sport of queuing. And last, but not least, is the famous Swedish dance, the queue shuffle. An evening trip to Netto and you may get to see all of it at once. Tonight was one of those nights....

With my two items in hand I took my place at the far end of the lengthy queue. There was a lone checker working at the only open kasa. The line of people in front of me was a bit anxious and I could tell this was no normal queue. I anticipated an additional kasa opening any minute. I wasn't alone in my hunch. An older lady with a small cart came up along side me. She had a look in her eye that indicated she wasn't just interested in the shampoo and the Fisherman's Friend throat lozenges that were shelved to my side. I could feel her cart slowly angle in towards me. I'd seen this move before....she was creating a block so that when the next available cashier opened her kasa I (along with everyone else behind me) would be trapped. She wasn't technically violating any of the countries long upheld queue laws as she wasn't cutting in line, she was simply 'shopping' near a potential queue that may open.... Sure enough, out of the rear emerged an additional cashier. Kasa number two was open for customers! The queue erupted into a full fledged Swedish queue shuffle dance. Men, woman, children, all of them shuffled to an imaginary beat as they reorganized themselves into now 2 lines. The lady in front of me swung her cart wildly....taking out an entire rack of pastries as she roared her head back exposing her aged fangs still dripping lingonberries from the meatballs she slayed at lunch. A small child tried to make a move ahead of her....he was no match...simply a road bump in the process. I dove for cover behind a perceived respite of toilet paper and counter top scrubs. It was no use....I had already sustained material damage. As I lied motionless near the candy aisle I weighed my options. I knew it was unlikely that I'd ever walk again....that I was ok with. However, my fear was that if I popped smoke and signaled the rescue choppers she'd discover my location, and finish the job with the toilet brush she just bought. I knew I needed help....time was running out.......

I guess I must have blacked out after that. The next thing I knew I was in my corridor kitchen enjoying a tasty meal of spaghetti and meatballs. I had a warm mug of tea on the table right next to an unopened package of Nordic Cake. Looks like heaven shined favorably on me tonight. Que'ers beware....that lady is still out there somewhere...you never know when she'll show up in a queue near you!

Inmates and Soul Searching

As I sit here in the friendly confines of my corridor room I'm reflecting on what was another interesting week in Lund. The election dominated the news and conversation of my day to day as everyone seemed to request a forecast of the next 4 years. When asked, I gave a bipartisan canned response of 'I think it's a positive change for Americans as well as our friends around the globe." Other key events of my week included a couple of highly insightful conversations around carbon markets and their place as an economic driver for development in emerging societies. I met a wonderful gentleman here at Lund who most recently worked for Eco-Securities on projects in South America. It's his vision, similar to mine, to look at the role micro projects can play in the larger (soon to be ratified) global carbon market. Some of you will remember my obsessive harping of fly ash bricks...well, this is round two in that fight. And last but not least, the big news out of Stockholm is sourced by one of my new favorite publications The Monocle, in which an article describes a newly formed arrangement between graduating fashion design students at Beckman's College of Design in Stockholm and the roughly 260 female inmates in Sweden that have a new fashion line to look forward to. Apparently the university students have been commisioned to design a more functional and flattering line of inmate apparel that will allow women in the system to secure their identity while being held in the system.


I've begun thinking about the future of my studies here at Lund. The semester has about a month left before we resign for our winter break. After we resume classes, post new year, it will be a fire storm of action leading up to our commencement in June. Not a lot of time in the grand scheme of things. There are days when I feel like I have a clear picture of the next steps in life...there are others where I'm utterly confused. I've identified a handful of things that I once thought I would be great at, that I now know would never be dynamic enough to stimulate my microscopic attention span. On the other hand, areas which I never once considered seem to be emerging as interesting and thought provoking.


I recently watched an online program about our subconscious. The research presented within the show illustrated that we as humans really are agents who act in a long series of patters. Thus the phrase, you can't teach an old dog new tricks. Whether it's what detergent we buy, or what job we take, our past actions in our lives can indicate our likelihood of either making that decision in the first place, or maintaining that decision in the long run. The lead researcher on the program posed an argument that if we could identify some of these patterns within our lives we could make better choices that have better long term results. So for me, I thought back in time to identify memorable items and events that may hold the secret code to what the hell I'm suppose to do after grad school....here is a short list of what I came up with and some analysis around each.

Creativity & Innovation - Legos were a favorite toy of mine. These little building blocks are a wonderful way to imagine and create a world that extends from your mind to the physical realm in which we live. They provide immediate feedback (and gratification) as you build. I had other toys as a child, but none that I really remember spending as much time with.

Projects - For some reason I was always very good at putting together puzzles. I would often put them together without turning all the pieces over, and I never followed the age old tradition of 'edges first'. Despite my usually non-existent attention span, I would labor for hours undistracted over the small pieces in front of me. I ruined endless holiday family gatherings by rushing to the puzzle table (after someone else took the time to turn all the pieces right side up) assembling large chunks of it as quickly as possible (infringing on others territories) and going so far as to hide a single piece in my pocket so that I could conclude the exercise by inserting the final piece and raising my hands in victory while sashaying to the kitchen in search of some more cheese log. Oh, and it was a cold day in hell when I actually stuck around long enough to participate in 'cleaning it up' by putting the pieces back in the box. Once it was done...I was done.

Negotiations - a good day for me in the summer time when we were out of school was when I could get my sister to enter into some sort of negotiation with me. This usually revolved around some chore list that our mother had left for us. I could typically persuade her to enter into legally binding arrangements that were both complex and highly advantageous to my desires....the one fatal flaw of these contracts was the executive veto that could be executed by our parents.

Arbitrage & Value Identification - there's not an MBA grad from any top ivy league school that can sit down with a copy of the Thrifty Nickel (local classified newspaper), read an ad for a dozen free chickens and immediately conclude the profit potential of such an item, distribution channels available to them, current selling price of live chickens in the broad market and inventory costs associated with holding said item; without doing any research ahead of time. Whether it be chickens, appliances, or other inanimate objects I've always had a certain knack for noticing things that are mis-priced.

Sales - the best job I've ever had in my life was selling Christmas trees in the winter. The unfortunate aspect of this higher calling is the seasonality. There was nothing more satisfying than concluding on a market equilibrium (price) that a buyer was willing to pay for an object that is both dead and soon to become a fire hazard that will jeopardize their families safety throughout the seasonal festival. My one fatal flaw in sales is my inner 'softie' which means I'm pretty much a push over when it comes to 'driving a hard bargain'. For example, if a family came in that looked a bit hard on their luck it really wasn't in my nature to extract top dollar for the balsam fir they selected. Instead I'd give them a steep discount moving the product at a price barely over cost. I'd encourage the family to invest the savings in a larger frozen turkey and an extra quart of egg nog. We sold more trees (at a lower cost), there was a rise in grocer sales of large-extra large turkeys, and I slept better at night.....republicans would call that socialism.

So, what's one to conclude from such exercise? Well, for me I think the above self check indicates that I should try to find a gig that is: project based and requires problem solving within an innovative field (or product) where value is not being appropriately calculated by the overall market. It should include negotiations that create an advantaged position on behalf of our interests, while requiring the use of sales skills to do so....at the same time keeping a conscious eye towards less fortunate actors in the space we operate to ensure that everyone wins. If I could somehow include a bow saw and smell like rich pine forests when I returned home each night...well, all the better.

You Bastards

Here's some news for all you travelers out there. Don't trust the airlines. Ok, so maybe that's not news to anyone. I think we've all been burned by lost luggage, intimate anal cavity searches at FAA security check points, over priced sandwiches at terminal quick marts, and of course the endless delays. My latest experience is a new one though.......

September of this year Lindsay and I planned a great holiday for the two of us to commence shortly after Christmas and run through the new year. The plan was to go from Lund to Copenhagen to Amsterdam to Antwerp (maybe Brugge) and then to Frankfurt for her to fly home from, after which I'd spend a week in Germany making my way back up north to Sweden. 90% of the trip can be done by train.....it's the 10% in the air that kills a fella.

I found some great tickets out of Copenhagen to Amsterdam. Sterling Airlines, $90/ticket. We jumped on the deal and I booked them straight away. Little did I know that I should have simply went to an ATM, pulled out the equivalent amount of cash, and set fire to it.

Apparently the airline that we booked the tickets through, Sterling Airlines, decided to become insolvent on October 29th. What do I mean by insolvent....well, basically it means they put up an IOU on their web page (in several languages) and wished everyone good luck on traveling with another airline because all their flights were grounded and no one was getting any money back....apparently it had something to do with oil prices. I guess the concept using futures contracts to hedge price risk of operating expenses escaped their finance department's brain trust. Now, normally something like this would send me into a tailspin at which point I'd probably get arrested at the tarmac trying to steal a set of tires from one of their grounded planes to then sell on ebay to an airline with money (if such a thing exists) to recoup my lose. Instead, Linds and I simply booked another ticket (at twice the cost) with a different carrier and we used a credit card to do so. See, the fatal flaw in my deal was that I used a debit card (as I don't have a credit card) to complete the transaction. Once you use that the deal is done. Lesson learned.

Now, you may be thinking to yourself....ok, you got burned on two plane tickets...what's the odds that's going to happen to me? With Sterling's announcement they became the 64th airline to go belly up in 2008. The whole airline industry is a total sham....carriers that you think are reputable run their operations in the red and they all use current revenues (ticket sales) that are for future liabilities (future flights) to finance current operations. Therefore, the companies are in a perpetual cycle of using cash now for something they have to deliver in the future....while losing money the whole time. Think about that the next time you hit the friendly skies.

Election Coverage

I was thinking to myself that perhaps I should write some lengthy post election analysis about the pros and cons of the results. Detailed predictions about what I see for the world going further, etc. Instead, I found this little piece.....I think this guy does a far better job summing it up than I could do. Enjoy.

It's Over....

That's it. It's done. Obama is in the white house. Senate and house are both soundly secured. Colorado swung blue and Markey ousted Musgrave from the house.

Belfast Divided

Ireland is a country quite dear to my heart. The first time I came to her green isle shores was in 2002 with my best friend and his folks. We did the quintessential Irish tour. 10 days starting in Dublin, proceeding due west to dingle and on around the southern shore line making our way back to Dublin for St. Patty's day. Fairytale bed and breakfasts, full Irish breakfasts, proper fish and chips for dinner and of course countless pints for the 'strength' required to complete the trip. An unforgettable experience that I'll make sure to bore my children's children with long after I've lost my mind in an easy chair. For about the same price as a souvenir shamrock t-shirt from the Guinness factory in Dublin, you can buy yourself a one way ticket on a 3 hour bus that drops you off smack dab in the middle of a civil war. The shirt I bought in 2002 is nice and all, but this trip I chose the bus.

A mate of mine in Lund, whose from Manhattan, decided it was long overdue for him to hit the shores of the land of the leprechaun. I opted to 'guide' the event as I had been there before. Early Thursday we hit the road. One hour train to Copenhagen, 2 hour flight to Dublin and a 30 minute bus ride to the city center; we were ready for a celebratory pint in the city that Arthur Guinness built. We toured the city on foot, hitting all the major sites to see. Trinity College, the book of kells library, Grafton Street walking mall, Marion Square, St. Patrick's cathedral, temple bar area, St. Stephen's Green, Bank of Ireland, boardwalk on the River Liffey, and of course the gravity bar at the Guinness Storehouse where we watched the sun set from the highest point in Dublin. Yes, we saw it all (and it was pretty much as I left it 6 years ago). After checking in to our hostel (10 euro/night per bed) it was time to revamp and get ready to go see the other tourist sites in Dublin...the pubs. Oddly enough the one mainstay of Dublin (the pubs) is what has changed the most since I last bellied up. The crowd was younger (maybe I'm older) and uninterested. The old men that dotted the wooden institutions of the historic city seem to have disappeared (or died). You can't find a true peat fire near a quaint in all of downtown, and the only cabbage that I saw was part of a trio of vegetables that were adorn as costumes on some pear shaped Irish gals that skulled a few too many pints in their prime (which are now long gone). McFadden’s and O'Sullivans are being replaced by Jimmy Chong Thai Buffets and Abrakababarah Turkish Falafel houses.

After a night of pints and John Denver cover songs it was time to head north....destination Belfast. Here's where things got interesting....2 plus hour bus ride from Dublin city center and you're in the UK. No more Euro my friend, this is the Queen's country where a pint costs you a pound and some pence. The bus dropped us in the middle of the modernized city center. The first task...cash. We needed to pull out some pounds as the money bouquet (Euro, Swedish kronor, Danish kroner) we had was no good here. The first thing I noticed (besides the out of order sign on the ATM) was that the bank notes in Belfast aren't actual pounds. They're this hybrid of GBP and stamped money printed from the actual banks in Belfast. I'll have to research it more, but I think it's basically the Queen's form of allowance to her Irish neighbors. After we grabbed cash it was time for a pint (of course). We found ourselves at the Crown Bar across the street from the Europa hotel. This place is amazing...words do it no justice. The booths where you eat have chest level half walls that surround the tables with a door that closes you and your dinner mates in so you can talk in private. The ceiling and bar back are paneled with carved wood stained blood red. Every window is a stained glass masterpiece. It's just the kind of place that the IRA (Irish Republican Army) would have hatched their latest fire bomb, or perhaps watched it smolder from as the hotel Europa (across the stree) has been bombed 34 times during the conflict. After some pints and some stew we moved on to explore the city. The north side has a great metropolitan feel with loads of renovated modern buildings that pepper the main drags. Further south (where the city gets seedy in a hurry) lays Queen's college, which overlooks a big central green. Queen's is an imposing and intimidating looking institution that would make any student think twice about a spit ball or pissing off a morning class from too many pints the night before. The college campus dropped us right on top of our room and board for the night. Yet another hell hole hostel with bunk beds and 12 of your (newest) friends. We revamped and it was time to hit the streets. Halloween night was in the air. We didn't make it 50 yards before we saw our first fist fight. Apparently there was a big footie (soccer) game tomorrow and the local 'queens men' were influencing the outcome a night early. 6 blocks of broken bottles, trash littered across the street, windows in all the buildings knocked out and no street lights, we finally hit the main drag again. We somehow stumbled into a place named John Hewitt's bar. Classic local dive. Jazz music pumped from the true wooden instruments of the 4 man band, resonated off the walls and landed square in the foam on your Guinness. This was a get in and blend in kind of place. I quickly spotted an older couple with a lovely daughter that my mate took a keen eye to. I noticed they had a bit of available real estate at the corner of their table, so why not introduce myself. I took the mum head on, handed her my hand and said hello. To my delight she offered up the available spot to her starboard. I obliged and quickly extended an olive branch to her husband across the stool. Once I had the corner secured I motioned for my mate and he made the move for the daughter. Brilliant! Apparently the husband was a local blues musician that carried some clout. It was a steady flow of locals coming over to pay their respects, at the same time giving us ours (guilt by association). We followed our new found family to a hole in the wall known as The Spaniard. It was a classic place. Two floors, cheap pints, and not a tout (IRA narc) in sight. At this point we were 10 strong as a group and my new best friend was the ugliest looking lad in Belfast weighing in at a bit over an iron cannon. It turns out his good looks weren't the only thing this guy had going for him. He's also the owner of a pub not too far from where we were located. Our next stop, and so it goes....

The next morning my mate woke up with a head in need of a full Irish breakfast. Apparently the blues mans' daughter doesn't play nice and likes her pints by the dozen. He should have spent more time shouldered with me taking in some foul jokes about the Queen. After a bite at the open air market it was time for a black cab tour. This is one of the things I was a bit unsure about doing as it was expensive, involved a car, and seemed like a tourist trap...boy was I wrong. Our cabbie for the deal was a rounded off god fearing Catholic gent that's been driving cab his entire adult life...going on 40 years now. We headed off for the north of town....Shankill Road. This place is probably 4 city blocks from the metropolitan center of the city. Again, broken windows, glass throughout the city 'park', hills of random dirt that look like foxholes for fighting and random shit thrown about. Not exactly the place you brave an Irish tricolor (flag) on your shirt. There are giant murals on the sides of the brownstone row houses. Each mural signifies different killings, militia groups, and loyalist activists that were either killed in battle or are still in passive operation today. A strangely surreal place. While none of these are easy to take in, perhaps the most disturbing is a painted image of a hooded sniper with a shouldered rifle that 'follows' you around the park as you walk. No matter where you are on Shankill, if you can see the mural of the sniper he's got a bead on you. I watched a 'slightly chubby' kid about 12 years old kick around a half flat football beside a backdrop of a two story mural dedicated to Stevie 'Top Gun' McKeag who's a hero in this part of the world. Stevie murdered 14 (identified) people as the commander of the Red Hand Commando....He died in 2000, a hero on Shankill. Around every corner there's a full mural with the Queen's mark. Names of 'soldiers' lost from each neighborhood have plaques built in front of their families homes just in case the kids and grandchildren ever forget. At closing time of the local pubs everyone rises and sings 'god save the Queen' before they go home. Make sure you know the words if you go.

Our tour continued to the edge of the protestant part of town. Here there is a massive steel wall that dominates the skyline. It stands 20'-30' tall and is a solid barrier to keep trouble segregated to it's own side of the city. There are big gates at the ends of the streets that connect the two sides. On Friday evening the city closes the gates and doesn't reopen them until Sunday morning. The wall that separates the two sides is littered with graffiti and paintings... some promote hate, other promote peace. An awkward scar on the landscape of the city, and a constant reminder that a maltove cocktail is only a throw away. We drove around the barriers to the Irish side of the city to continue our tour. Here the place was much cleaner. The row houses had similar murals and memorials, but all and all it was a likeable place. Gardens were well kept and the monuments looked much nicer than the hooligan fueled mosaics on the other side of the wall. Our guide made it a priority to insert his biased beliefs into the tour by making an extra point of noticing how many innocent children and woman had been killed in the random (and sometimes organized) acts of violence. The lists were astounding and the point was made. Further down the same neighborhood giant murals promoting peace and bringing attention to global injustice became the theme. A strong message is clearly spelled in paint as the title reads America's Greatest Failure. The picture is of Bush with money bubbles spewing from his ears as he sucks from a straw hooked to a well in a smoldering middle east which lay in ruins. The straw is supported by a 'British support hook'.

Our guide left us with one last story about a building that looked very eastern block. Grey concrete, no real windows to note, square, and completely boring. Its function was the headquarters for the IRA commanders to run their efforts from. Entrenched among Irish supporters who lived in the building, the commanders were able to shot call from a high perch above the city. The building itself has a full length garbage shoot that was occasionally used as a human garbage disposal for any bodies that may need rid. A strange departing story to a strange city that still has a long ways to go to bury (no pun intended) the ills of its past.

While Belfast is defiantly not the Belfast of old (according to those who we spoke to), the city is still on edge with its relatively youthful 'peace status' established a decade ago. As a sign of the times a lady, whom offered to help us find where we were going on a map, offered us some sound advice about the parade that was scheduled for the city on Sunday. The parade was a homecoming for the British military returning from battle in the middle east. She wanted to make sure we weren't planning to be around for it. Her fear was not that there was going to be any issues (despite the massive security increase in the city). Her fear was that if the unlikely outcome of violence happened, we wouldn't have had any means to any arms to take up ahead of time. She wasn't taking that chance and planned to be 'ready' for the event.

Belfast is an interesting place in an interesting country. With any luck the divides of the old will shed way to the hope of the now and bring the sides together to formally bury the hatchet once and for all. Belfast could become the Berlin of the Irish isle at which point everyone wins. A last quote from a mural on the Catholic side was next to the most photographed painting in Belfast; the mural of Bobby Sands. Bobby Sands was an IRA volunteer who died on hunger strike in a British detention facility after capture for having arms in his possession. His 1981 death spawned an uprising in the independence movement and the activity and recruitment of the IRA. His death was felt across Europe as reactions to the news caused outrage in many nations. The words he spoke, captured on his mural, read "our revenge will be the laughter of our children."