I’m a lover, not a fighter

Today, I suddenly realized that I didn’t become a pilot, a policeman, or a pro hockey player like I thought when I was a kid. Didn’t become a rich businessman like I thought when I was in business school. Didn’t even become a media consultant like I was told to say to clients when I switched careers for the first time.

I’m a writer. This is what I do.

Even on a Sunday.

Be happy

Moderated a roundtable discussion today, the topic being work atmosphere at a Swedish company. By the end of it, I asked the participants to give some pointers to the readers (in the same company across the world) on how one person can make the atmosphere better for everybody.

“Just be happy and stay positive,” said the first.

“Yeah, I say the same,” said the rest.

So easy. To forget.

Go, go, go!

The fans were cheering loudly, they were singing and chanting, and clapping, and waving their flags. For about ten minutes, they chanted something that sounded like this:

“YOAOAOYEACAMENASARKEYYAAVIYEACAMENA!”

A young man next to me was quietly chanting along, clapping his hands with the rest of them. I finally asked him, “What are they chanting, exactly?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

Heart on the sleeve

The Toronto Star ran an interesting piece.

Now a group of influential NHL players that includes New Jersey’s Martin Brodeur, Dallas’s Marty Turco, Detroit’s Dominik Hasek and Edmonton’s Dwayne Roloson want the league’s – and inevitably the Leafs’ – uniforms altered again. [S]everal NHL goalies have asked the league and its players union to consider starting a so-called Goaltender’s Club. Revenue-generating initiatives for the club could include placing a corporate logo on the jerseys of the league’s 60-odd goalies.

That’s right. A corporate logo on the jerseys.

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My name is Persson

Tonight, my wife and I had dinner at a sweet Italian restaurant in Uppsala, after an energetic show by Jonas Gardell, a Swedish comedian (and author and entertainer).

In the table next to us, there was a group of young girls getting ready for Friday night, giggling and chatting as only young girls can. All of a sudden, I saw a man lean against the window, trying to talk to the girls.

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