Just a reminder: Puckarinen has updated his blog today. It’s just under this one, have a look:
Invite to Puckarinen
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East Coast v West Coast
I took the train yesterday. Nice, environmental choice that also gave me an opportunity to work the full three hours it took for me to get transported from Stockholm, the “capital of Scandinavia”, as the city’s tourist council wants us to call it, to Gothenburg, the .. something of the something on the “front of Sweden”.
Butt out
I’ve never been a smoker so if I sound obnoxious here, please forgive me, and just shrug it off. Just think that I’m ignorant when it comes to these things.
(Full disclosure: Back in the 1970s, I did think it was cool to smoke the liquorice pipes now banned by the EU, and the long gone liquorice cigarettes, wrapped in Camel paper and all – and in fact, I smoked a liquorice pipe as recently as today. Not endorsing that habit, either, though).
Taxi!
I’m not one to make cool entries or exits. I know one when I see it, but I don’t think I have the ego to pull them off. Sometimes I do something that seems like a great idea at the time, or I lash out to someone in a way that is really witty, but also mean, and then I feel bad about it for the rest of the day.
No man is an island
Time truly flies. In just 105 days, it’s time for another edition of Island Games, the sports event for the island nations. Or “nations”, depending on your view on autonomous parts of independent countries. It seems like yesterday that Greenland’s Kim Godtfredsen stopped the clock at 33.27.60 to win the men’s 10 000 meter race.
Just a man
Memoirs
The six-word memoir of the day:
“Waiting for the phone to ring.”
Memoirs
Here’s my six-word memoir of the day:
“You still ain’t seen nothing yet.”
Undercover
There are two things a true professional never does.
1. He never works in his underwear. There’s something about underwear that makes any activity seem less professional, no matter how fine the final product is. I’m sure F. Scott Fitzgerald didn’t write Great Gatsby in his underwear. That’s why I’m writing this entry fully clothed. In this case, Speedos are also considered underwear.
2. He never goes to a meeting without a bag. A suitcase, a messenger bag or the like, but never a backpack. It doesn’t matter what’s in it. It can be a lunch sandwich, a newspaper, notes, even underwear (as long as it stays in the bag), it doesn’t matter, but the bag has to be there or you might as well yell, “I don’t know what I’m doing” when you enter the meeting room.
Now, go take over the world.
Still building the empire
Here’s this week’s “I on Europe” from The Hockey News.
Here, that is.