Fun Weekend....

My street on a beautiful day, originally uploaded by Let Ideas Compete.

This weekend has been just great. Saturday I went on a long bike ride and met some members of the Fredrikshof bicycle club and got invited on some of their club rides. Then Saturday evening J and I went to see the new Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman movie called The Bucket List. Excellent movie. We're still talking about it.

Sunday we decided to have breakfast out so we rode our commuter bikes to Slussen and followed the bike path along the shore to the Grand Hotel. There we had an elegant breakfast with great views of the ferry boats. Then we strolled all around the Stureplan area and later we met some folks at the beautiful horticultural gardens and restaurant called Rosendahl to discuss the teachings of Eckhart Tolle. He's an amazing guy with an uncanny ability to integrate the wisdom from all religions, history, science, and psychology and articulate it in a very compelling way. I am sure certain religious figures will malign him but they would be demonstrating some of his points about ego if they did. Anyway, we sat outside in light jackets (it's still a bit chilly) and discussed some of his ideas. "Tolle" groups like these are all over the world. There's a web page to assist you in finding them. No, it is not a cult and it's not a new religion. It's a way of thinking about your spiritual self and Presence with that which is Sacred.

Church, Death, and Bicycling and I'm not Sambo

Salems Kyrka (Church), originally uploaded by Let Ideas Compete.

J and I have had several encounters with the Swedish medical system now. In general, I'd have to say it's a good system (but neither better nor worse than the US system). Both systems have their strengths and weaknesses. One thing I definitely beleive is that one should not believe the statistics oft quoted in the media, by politicians, and by other agenda toting individuals.

For example, we often hear that there are "47 million un-insured Americans" which works out to about one out of every eight Americans. If you remove the 12 million illegal immigrants, we're down to 35 million. Remove those that are economically able to buy insurance but opt not to (for some strange reason) and you're down to around 32 million. Consider that 47% of those reporting "no insurance" are only temporarily without insurance (they'll be back on an insurance plan within a quarter), and we're down into the 20's. I suspect that if you consider that many opt to make payments on a big screen TV, a motorcycle, or some other toy rather than pay for insurance and the number take another big cut. I wonder whether the survey question would deem someone wanting breast implants but was not covered to be "un-insured." Remove the prostitues and drug dealers whose employeers typically do not provide insurance, we're donw to the real number of truely poor. Ahh, but I digress....

So here's the real reason for this blog post. Thursday April 13, I started feeling like I was contracting the flu around 3:00 in the afternoon. I told colleagues I needed to go home early, which I did do. Once home, I laid down on the sofa and did not get up till the next morning at 9:00. All through the night I had cold chills and occassional sweats. My joints and muscles ached. I was not nausous and had no cough ot sore throat.

I drank a cup of coffee, while still lying down. Shortly after I felt a sharp and intense chest pain just under the sternum. It lasted 20 minutes or so and really scared me. I had several more episodes. Finally, J convinced me to go to the doctor around 11:00. By then the pains had stopped but while walking to the doctor, I had another. I had visions of dying on a Stockholm street.

When I got to the doctor's office and stated I had chest pains, I expected "emergency" treatment since I'm an over-50 guy. Instead, I took a number just like everyone else and waited...about 30 minutes. Now I've been to the doctor twice before and J's been to the doctor a several times. Not once have they weighed us, taken our blood pressure, pulse, or temperature - all standard practice in Colorado. (This keeps costs down and they don't need to worry about zazillion dollar lawsuits.) This time they did take my blood pressure. The nurse wrote it down on a post-it note (although my file was up on the computer). Later I saw a doctor and he listened to my heart, took some blood (to detect a heart attack and other things), and had me do an EKG. Now my opinion about the lax attention was changing. I was beginning to get very thorough attention.

After all this, he said he could find nothing wrong with my heart and it was probably a viral thing compounded by my heightened exercise (because I'm training for a 180 mile bike ride in June). However, to be cautious, I needed to go to the hospital for observation. "Don't walk." he said. "Take a taxi or ride the bus." I would have been taken by ambulance in the US at a cost of another zazillion dollars. Anyway, once at the hospital, the quality of care takes another step up. I was admitted to the cardiac unit and the competence of the nurses and doctors was much higher. They took blood every 5 hours, more EKGs, an ultra-sound image of my heart, and more listening, thousands of questions, and finally an EKG under physical duress (a stationary bike). Negative. They can say with 99.999% confidence it is not my heart, not a heart attack, not angina, not pericardisis, not any arterial blockages. Whew! They agreed with the first doctor that it was due to a viral thing coupled with exercise.

Since then I learned that a friend came down with the flu the day I was admitted to the hospital. She was in such discomfort, she too, was admitted to the hospital. However, the thing most notable about her condition was that she was also having some intense chest pain. Only she's around 30 and so they didn't go the "possible heart attack" route.

The odd thing is that in Sweden and in the US there will be no way of correlating her condition with mine unless we saw the same doctor or unless there was an epidemic. We have the technology, I wish we'd use it. Maintaining privacy would be relatively easy to do.

One thing I made official at the hospital: I am not a sambo. I had to answer the question "Are you single, married, or sambo?" Sambo mean co-habitating with someone esle, presumably of the opposite sex. I think "sambo" os a contraction of some Swedish words, but don't recall what they were. Sambos are frequent in Sweden. However, this is not indactive of loose morale values. Indeed, I think the Swedes are very moral and compassionate and truely caring for others. They are not hypocritical (at least that I've seen). So sambo's are not causing the decline of morales or anything dire.....

I was told there's also "mambo" which means "still living with mom."

The photo above is from my bike ride last weekend, a true test of my heart. Riding past, I thought that the week before I might have been in a grave like one of those in the photo. Ahh, but I escaped. Oh, death also reminds me of a movie J and I just saw. The Bucket List starring Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson. Five stars in my book....

B Visits

Our first visitor from home: our youngest son Benton. We had a grand time. He was here for about a month in the year 2000, so it was fun for him to re-visit some things. Some of the highlights of his visit were kayaking. He and I went from Svima Sports all the way around Stora Essingen, Långholmen, and Kungsholmen and then up Ulvsundasjön to the big bridge. I took ibupfofen for two days after. Later in his visit he went again with J in Brunnsviken. B also had some fun enjoying the Stockholm nightlife. Nobody is a stranger to him! we walked along Strandvägen. We hit several nice restaurants including the trendy summertime-only floating restaurant called Stranbryggan and the sushi restaurant in our neighborhood called Raw. We saw Die Hard 4, visited the Nordic Museum, wandered around Gamla Stan, worked out at the fitness center several times, and B got royally cheated by a taxi driver late one night. He was out so late the buses and subway had stopped. B had spent all his kroner and told the driver "I only have American dollars." The driver said "That's ok, you American's are rich." B said "Not this American." After a very short ride from T-Centralen to S:T Eriksplan, the driver said "$40." He paid and later found out it should've been $6.

We'd like to take this time to express our appreciation to B for taking care of some of our business while we are away.

Ice Bar

The Stockholm Ice Bar is a a tourist trap but a trap a tourist might want to experience once. The glasses, chairs, walls, and the bar itself are ice. The inside temperature is kept at 27 degree F (-5 C). The ice comes from ice harvested from the Torne River on the border between Sweden and Finland in Northern Sweden. Absolut Vodka is a sponsor so all the drinks are vodka based. The cover charge of 160 SEK (approximately $23) gets you in for 45 minutes and one drink. Additional drinks are 85 SEK (approximately $12). Ouch. However, given the expense, I'd have to say the novelty of it is worth seeing, once. As you can see from the photos, they provide a warm cloak with a hood and gloves. The glasses are also of ice. They replace all the ice (the walls, bar, seats) twice per year. The seats are covered with deer skin (or reindeer?).

Midsommar 2007

J and I are in an abandoned city today. June 21, midsommar (mid-summer) holiday is probably the most cherished Swedish holiday. The residents of Stockholm have all left for the countryside and the archipelago to celebrate the longest day of the year with traditional foods, drink, folk songs, and friends and family. Based on the number of cars around the apartment, I'd estimate that 80% of the residents are not in the city. It's practically a ghost town. J and I meandered to Odenplan this morning and found a coffee shop that was open - there's almost nothing else open - and had a couple of coffees and Swedish desserts as we watched even more Swedes leaving the city (we assume a rolling suitcase means leaving). Then we came back to the apartment and watched a movie or two, writing to this blog. We opened a bottle of Barbera d' Asti, a package of Färdiga skivor (excellent cheese), and a box of Breton original wheat crackers and did very little else. We probably should have gone to one of the many public celebrations but, honestly, we need some rest.

The weather today is overcast. We hope it will improve tomorrow because we've planned a party for my management staff. They've been fantastic in supporting the new guy: me. They represent the best of humanity to me. We have our disagreements but they are professional differences: as people they never cease to impress me.

D & J - a personal note

How are we doing? Truth is, we miss our kids. It is harder for J - she misses her job and all the fantastic folks she worked with. It is harder to break into society without a job and the interactions a job provides. I also miss my colleagues, but have met plenty of great people at the new office in Kista. J misses the jogs around Waneka lake and I miss the lunch time "pack" bike rides over Olde Stage road and Lee hill. J misses the pets and I miss my woodworking. We've discovered "Skype" - a low-cost way to communicate (although sometimes the connection quality is poor) with famiy and friends.

We've also found lots of good restaurants, but we don't go out very often. Prices are really high here in Stockholm...even most Swedes eat at home.

J is experiencing some career withdrawal pains. However, she's really learning to get about in the city and I'm not worried about her safety - Stockholm is a safe city. Swedish language classes at the Folk Univerity in Stockholm were full the last session: she'll probably take them in the fall. However, she's seriously considering attending Regis University online. This would be quite a boost to her career when we return to Colorado two or three years from now.



I'm extremely busy working. I feel I'm doing a pretty good job but I've made a few blatant mistakes. Live and learn. I wanted to start learning Swedish in a big way but I don't know where I'd find the time. I'm still working long hours and try to get in some exercise. After that, there's not much left. I do enjoy my bike commutes to work but I'm growing a little tired of the same old route every day. It's time to find some other routes. Plus, I still don't ride if it even looks like rain...and that's pretty often these days.

Back in 2000, when I lived in Stockholm I dwelt on the differences between Swedes and Americans. This time I tend to see more similarities. I am seeing many preconceptions some Americans have about Swedes to be wrong and vice versa. There is usually an element of truth in stereotypes but often it's greatly exaggerated. There's also a matter of scale. Sweden is approximately 9 million people so comparisons should be made with 9 million people in the US, not to 350 million. Similary Swedes (and others) sometimes extrapolate attributes of one small group of Americans or one city (especially New York city) to all Americans. I'm learning to let first impressions simmer awhile and they will almost always soften.



We've got several Swedish freinds that make the Swedish experience so much richer. We also got some other American friends also on assignment that enrich the sojirun. Several folks in our apartment building have become our friends, too. They are from all over Europe. Of course, we still communicate with all our friends in the STates through this blog, email, and the good old telephone.

Multi-Cultural Apartment Grill-Out on National Day

According to Po Tidholm and Agneta Lilja in ther small book Celebrating the Swedish Way, Sweden has celebrated their "National" day on June 6 since 1983. They say: "This is the date on which Gustav Vasa was crowned ling in 1523 and on which a new constitution was adopted in 1809. The original idea came from Artur Hazelius, who founded the Skansen open-air museum in Stockholm and held a national day celebration there on June 6 as early as the 1890's." They go on to state: "In 1916, Hazelius's idea was officially adopted and June 6 became Swedish flag day. The name celebrated the fact that Sweden had acquired its own flag following the dissolution of the union with Norway."

So this year, J thought it would be a perfect opportunity to meet the neighbors in the apartment building by inviting them all to a bar-b-cue in the back yard. So we did. It was one of the most fun times since we've been in Sweden. There was a German man who works for the Swedish power company, a Norwegian woman who works for the transportation department, another Norwegian woman who is a writer for a large multi-national company, her Swedish husband who is a writer for a prestigious financial news organization, a Canadian woman on a 2 year assignment much like me who manages projects and has many other interests, and her Swedish friend who is retired but runs his own consulting company. Everyone brought meat to grille and a dish to share. The food was excellent but the conversation was more so. We all had a blast critiquing each other's culture. They all have lived in the United States plus other countries. J and I are plain ol' monolingual people who've only lived in one country (although some would argue that Texas is another country!). Nevertheless, our brief stay in Sweden and our few European vacations give us just enough perspective to identify with and see the humor in all that was said.


We discussed views on customer service in each country, views on nudity and especially the nude beaches in Germany, places to travel to and special tourist destinations, transportation methods, languages and especially Swedish dialects, winter sports, and about food in each culture, especially holiday food.

Near the end of the evening Janis spotted a tiny baby bird that had fallen from it's nest. So we decided to return it. However, the nest was behind a grate in the building about 10 feet (3 meters) above the ground. Plus we knew we couldn't touch the baby because the mother would kill it because of the wrong smell. So using a paper plate and the balancing skills of the tall German, we managed to save a bird. Not a bad way, at least symbolically, to end a multi-cultural grill-out.

Norrviken, Frog Stains, BBQ, and Woodworking

Last weekend, a Swedish colleague and his family invited D & J over for a barbecue at his home in Norrviken. Norrviken is just north of Kista and is a clean small community that developed on a thousand year old trade route next to a shallow swampy lake. In recent years the lake has dried up so that it's now about 3 kilometers in diameter. It's still a great spot for summer swimming and winter skating. Norrviken also borders a large forested park which is a favorite mountain biking area.

The most interesting thing about Norrviken, however, is the annual 2 week period of frogs. They emerge from the swampy areas of the lake and overwhelm the streets and neighborhoods. The city puts up signs to warn motorists of the road hazard (both to protects the motorist from sliding on squished frogs and to protect the frogs from death by Volvo tires, I suppose). The mass migration of frogs reminds me of the Mormon crickets in Utah. D & J once encountered them on a desert road in Utah and the wheel wells were full of blended cricket parts - it couldn't be helped.

The hosting family showed extreme hospitality, like all our other Swedish friends. They had a nice large yard with fruit trees, many flowers and a vegetable garden. The houses in the neighborhood were built in the 60's during some boom years for Sweden. The houses are brick which most Americans would prefer over wood, but in Sweden, wood or stucco is usually preferred. The gutters are made of copper! Imagine that today. The interiors, like most Swedish homes and buildings, have a special warmth and feeling of wood.

The hosts have an interesting life story that includes many foreign sojourns, notably in Ohio and Japan. They also own a 27 meter long freighter boat, which they spent 10 years refurbishing and actually lived on in a Stockholm marina for several years before buying the house. They take a 2 week trip in the boat each year into the interior of Sweden via a series of lakes, canals, and locks. The trip is with a group of other small freighters, all joining as a community.

The barbecue is very popular in Sweden, and is considered an American pastime that Sweden has imported. The host was a little nervous BBQ'ing for the "expert American." However, it was excellent and the American expert is not so expert. They BBQ'ed roast, wieners, and bratwurst. The dinner itself also included fresh cheeses (Sweden has great cheeses) and fresh breads. One of the delicious cheeses also had a sharp aroma. So sharp the Swedes call it balcony cheese because you should leave it on the balcony to keep it from smelling up the house. I tried it and liked it. Just goes to show you that you can't judge a cheese by it's odor... well not totally.

The dessert was glass (the Swedish words for ice cream) covered with fresh strawberries. So far every dinner D & J have had at a Swedish family's home has been excellent and this one maintained that standard. D & J worry that they can't come close to matching the culinary skills of the Swedish hosts, especially since D & J have a temporary kitchen and are less familiar with where to buy certain ingredients (all the ingredients are in Sweden but sometimes the Swedish words are not in our dictionary, especially spices).

The garage in the basement, like D's in the US, had been converted to a woodworking shop. Only this one had several industrial sized tools like an 18 inch joiner, a shaper, 20 inch bandsaw, and planer. He bought these from a Swedish tool maker for cash to get a really sweet deal. He also used German Festool routers, the brand D considers top-ot-the line. In the US, Festool's are about 70% higher than their competitors. But they are so much lighter and have higher precision than the other brands.

I ate a vacuum cleaner.

From my February post entitled "Puncherelle - not for dieters" you know that a vacuum cleaner, "dammsugare," is a delicious Swedish dessert. I finally bought one. It was indeed delicious. I highly recommend them for people without athletic ambitions. A healthy breakfast might be two dammsugaren and coffee (with no sugar).



I also bought two tubes of McVities Digestive Crackers, actually Digestive Biscuits, imported from Britain. The fact that they call these digestive implies all the others are not digestive. It's it a bit like buying "combustive" gas or a "drivable" car? Anyway, I can down half a tube with a glass of milk. Better than Oreos, I think.


On another note (a "different horse of another color" as Groucho Marx once said), my quotes became stars this week. Specifically, my new computer has a Swedish keyboard so the "-key has moved and the *-key is there instead, right next to ö, ä, and å. My fingers keep closing parenthesises when I want to open parenthesis. The trickiest thing, though, is that some keys have three symbols. Press the key to get one, press shift plus the key to get the second, press the ALT Gr key to get the third. I wonder if Mavis Beacon )the famous typing teacher) has a *Teach Yourself Typing" DVD for these keyboards.

A Morning Jaunt to Kungsträdgården

I walked to Odenplan this morning and took bus #2 to Kungsträdgården (The King's Garden). I was actually looking for the Catholic church. I found several church's (kyrka) but I passed the Catholic church several times before I found it. It's entrance is part of an office building and was marked by a small gold cross outside. Even the Lutheran church just on the otherside of the park was easily identifiable as a church.

I've never seen a church in an office building. Once inside, though, it looks traditional.

It was Sunday on the Easter weekend so many businesses were closed. However, I still found many resturants to choose from. I like the food in Sweden but, when I saw a Friday's (aka TGI Friday's) I felt I needed a greasy hamburger. There are exactly two Friday's's in Sweden and both are within a kilometer of each other. I think I got more greasy fat today in one meal than in all the past 3 weeks.

I wound up walking the area for two hours and taking a few photos, which I put on flickr. Click
on "slideshow".

My Easter Dinner

Let me tell you about a fantastic Swedish family I know. They had me and some other visiting Americans over for Easter, treating us to a traditional Swedish Easter meal, which includes herring and eggs. More on that later. The meal included fresh cheeses, a lasagna-like dish, roasted lamb, a Mediterranean salad with black olives and ricotta cheese, lax (thinly slices smoked salmon), and potatoes. Bo said that a Swede, especially the older ones, will ask "where's the potatoes?" like a I might ask "where's the beef?" Potatoes are a stable agricultural product of Sweden and they are, indeed, excellent.

Four types of herring were available. Herring is one of those foods that takes a bit of courage to take the first bite. ("Twas a brave man that first ate a raw oyster" or maybe very hungry.) I like, but not love, herring in tomato or mustard sauce. The picked ones are stronger and I've heard is an acquired taste.

The dessert was a thin chocolate cake, almost a brownie, sprinkled with powdered sugar with fresh raspberries and ice cream as a topping.


This family is amazing. They all speak at least two languages and play music and have traveled the world. Below you see a photo of their basement sound-proofed music room with the family plying a song for us.



The other American family is also fantastic. They also are world travelers. One parent hales from Australia; the other from Calgary, Canada born of Norwegian immigrants. She speaks some Norwegian and will be learning Swedish, a close relative, very quickly. Both are avid orienteers, a sport originating in Scandinavia and very popular all over the world. Orienteering may become a new hobby for D & J, too.

Both families have relatives spread all over the world and yet manage to maintain close family ties. They visit each other periodically, write or email frequently, and use the old fashioned phone: skills D & J will be honing in the upcoming months.

Easter is one of the most important Swedish holidays. They stress Easter witches more than the Easter bunny, although candy plays a big part. Read all about the Swedish Easter traditions here, which says "In Finland and Sweden, traditions include egg painting and small children dressed as witches collecting candy door-to-door, in exchange for decorated pussy willows. This is a result of the mixing of an old Orthodox tradition (blessing houses with willow branches) and the Scandinavian Easter witch tradition. Brightly coloured feathers and little decorations are also attached to willow or birch branches in a vase. For lunch/dinner on Holy Saturday, families traditionally feast on a smörgåsbord of herring, salmon, potatoes, eggs and other kinds of food."

Friends in a new country make the experience far more rich than simply doing the tourist thing....

Door to door

After frantically trying to tie up loose ends with house repairs, packing (especially my bicycle), redirecting mail (check out Remote Control Mail), and paying bills, J took me to the airport. I had to pay $254 for excess baggage. Hope the company picks that up!

Lufthansa has a direct flight from Denver to Frankfurt. The direct flight and the unusually short wait time in Frankfort allowed me the shortest travel time ever.

J and I left the house at 2:30 for a 6:30 flight. That put me at the airport 3 hours early, but I'm extra cautious. I wanted to make sure we could react if they disallowed some of the luggage. J purchased a whole bunch of over-the-counter drugs since they are hard to find in Sweden (and if I did find them I wouldn't recognize the Swedish label). So I feared I'd be arrested or, at least, interrogated as a drug dealer. I guess terrorist don't travel with 40 bottles of ibuprofen - a waste of money if you plan to blow up the plane. So leaving my house to the starting of the jet engines: 4 hours. That gave me time to read half a book and meet two couple from San Diego going to Italy. They planned to follow much the same itinerary D & J did two years ago.

The whole airport screening thing strikes me as un-American. First, you are assumed guilty until proven innocent. Second, there's an encroachment on our privacy rights.

Another thing bothers me, too. The terrorist no longer have to blow themselves up on the plane. They just get in line to be screened. The line folds back and forth like the line to a Disney World attraction. Once in the middle of the line, the terrorist could kill just as many as on a plane and he didn't even have to buy a ticket. I hope you don't pass this blog post to a terrorist who might be willing to wait in line.

The flight to Frankfurt in coach class is torture. In fact, speaking of terrorist, we should just put suspected terrorists in coach class on a trans-Atlantic flight. They'd be confessing like a child long before the final descent, especially if they, say, had a slightly pinched nerve that causes their leg to switch every few seconds for hours after hour. Flight time 8 hours, 20 minutes .


The wait in the Frankfort airport was unusually short: 90 minutes. Yippee. Of course the screening in Frankfurt is as slow as Denver so I began to worry that I might miss my connecting flight.

The flight from Frankfurt to Stockholm three hours (I think). Fortunately, I was able to sleep. I have perfected sleeping in my own lap, folded like a wallet. Sometimes I rest my head on the tray table but got tired of the flight attendant, heartless they can be, waking me up because "the Captain said..."

Arrival at Arlanda, I caught a taxi whose driver spoke no English. That's a definite tip that he wasn't Swedish since all Swedes speak English. There were other clues, too, like skin color and name. Anyway it was fixed price so I wasn't worried about a run-away meter. We got to the apartment office while the snow came down like confetti. Then I discovered the office was not in the apartment complex. So after unloading my 17 tons of baggage, I had to load it on a second taxi. (Actually the taxi driver's were very helpful.) Then we drove to the apartment about 15 minutes away in Norrmalm (the north part of town). It's on Kadettgatan, if you want to find it on a map. The time from exiting the plane to entering my apartment door was two hours.

So the door to door time was 17 hours and 20 minutes, a new (fastest) record for me. Usually this trip takes 21 hours, especially with the United Denver-to-Chicago-to-London-to-Stockholm coach class torture.

Here's some photo's looking out my apartment front and back window. I've managed to find a grocery store and buy my subway, train, and bus pass. I also bought what I thought was milk but it turned out to be a lactose free thing....Note to self: learn Swedish word for milk (mjölk, not låglaktos mellanmjölk).



As I write this, after my first day of work, I realize (again) that Sweden is a magical place if you look beyond the cold and semi-dark winters and the occasional gray skies. Getting to know my Swedish colleagues the first day was like mingling at a party where everyone is an interesting character. This is going to be an adventure.