No - You Promised!

Actally we promised each other. No more IKEA - ever. I think we both agreed on the slogan: "No IKEA in 2005". Too late now, I guess.

The first thing the missus said this toasty and sunny sunday morning in San Francisco was: IKEA? I had nothing to do but confirm after spending the majority of the saturday infront of the TV, watching everything, anything and nothing.

I realized that there was no escape. The apartment is too far up to jump from and the entrance is too far away from the bedroom. I told myself: Think quick. Be smart. Come up with something. Anything. Redirect attention and importance. I had nothing.

So at 10:12am PST we parked the car outside IKEA and I could feel my heart pound faster than ever before. IKEA is neither a mall nor a shop. It's the most fears battleground where no rules apply. It's where Darwin would have proved his theories about the human species - mano-a-mano.

We found and bought what we needed - and more - and left like we robbed the place. It took us a rough 90 minutes to assemble the bookshelf and another 90 minutes to get my pulse down. I was ready to through all bits and pieces out the window at one point but I realized the possible stupidity of that move. Or rather the trouble I might get into.

We jointly agreed on "No IKEA in 2005" a few minutes ago, I just got to get the missus to sign the freekin' document. I'll then frame it and in her moment of weakness point and smile: "No IKEA in 2005". Signed, sealed and delivered! :)

When I Discovered My OCD

It was the missus that made me realize that I've got the Obsessive-Cumpulsive Disorder (OCD). I was making fun of The Monk and his OCD when she said: What are you laughing about? That's you!

Moi? The most handsome, affluent, expressive and stylish human being west of the Mississippi? Yeah, you, she said. You are obsessed with the car, with your shirts, with how you organize the mail, about closing doors, turning off and on lights, the way you pack, constantly checking the tie... and she went on and on.

At that moment I realized she was right. If 1 of 50 Americans could have OCD at some point in their life, the likelihood of 1 of 50 Swedes having the same would be pretty high. And if 2% of all living Swedes could have it, I bet my 401K that I'd got it.

The worst is the fear of germs in public bathroom and being agora fobic. The germs wasn't really a problem until I hung out with the missus' youngest brother in Ireland and he showed me how to avoid touching the door handle (he's got OCD by the way). Since then I haven't been able to touch a door handle in a public bathroom without using a paper towel (which I try to throw into the trash can inside the bathroom BEFORE the door closes). There is nothing I can do about my agora fobia except drown it in red wine.

Apart from all that I'm a VERY easy-going guy!

If I Had Some Time Off

Most people would love to have a million bucks. Who wouldn't? There are so many things one could do with a million bucks - if one had time.

Time becomes more important the older you get and the less you have. Money is a just a traded currency while time is invaluable. You can always make more money but never more time. Owning your own time is the most valuable asset anyone could have. Time to sleep in, reflect, think, learn, make, do, don't et cetera.

Time is the third highest form of luxury (I'd rate passion and health higher) and if I owned some I'd spend it like this: I would wake up in the morning, around 7-ish to brew some espresso, grab the WSJ and flick through my favorite financial news websites. I would then have a sit-down (haven't happen in about 10-15 years) breakfast and discuss the latest on emerging markets and stock prices with the missus. [The missus would probably humor me by nodding gently but that's another story.]

A hot bath and continuing reading of the WSJ would follow. I'd pull on a pair of worn jeans - could be Diesel, Levi's or Lee - and a semi-worn Paul Smith shirt with single cuffs and rolled up sleeves.

The rest of the day would be spent reading in the sun, having a long tasty lunch, a cigar, a late afternoon siesta and a late late afternoon drink. Then I would concentrate all my focus on the dinner, which I would cook myself while humming to Burt Bacharach and sipping Muga Gran Reserva.

The evening would be finished off either outside, enjoying the warm California evenings with friends or a 60s artsy fartsy movie by Bergman, Truffaut or Lelouch. Occasionally enjoying the hot tub with my own playmate, the missus.

But I would also learn a new language every year, make my own wine, write books, make a movie about vintage sportscars and improve my turtle walk.

There are so many things I would do if I had time that I don't think I'd make it to work. Time is worth so much more than a million bucks.

It's All About The Monk

Remember when TV was reality free (except for the news and well made documentaries)? Man, was that good times. No "Who's Your Daddy?", "The Ashlee Simpson Show" or "The Surreal Life".

It's never been easier for TV executives to make money. Take 15-minute famers, make them compete for a $50K price, throw in some drugs, liquor and nudity. Voila - you got yourself a hit show!

Then there is The Monk. Finally back to an intelligent, funny and very entertaining TV show. Monk is a character with a lot of issues but a brilliant problem solver and analyst. He puts things in perspective and at the same time makes you feel good about your petty problems.

Just Another Decade

I've know that I was going to hit 40 in 2006 for a long time. I think all the way back in the 70's when I tried to figure out how old I was going to be at the millenium. It wasn't called millenium at that time cause noone thought that far ahead. Not even the politicans who wanted to scrap atomic energy by the 90's.

Despite this insightful knowledge - about me hitting 40 that is - I just realized it a few days ago. The past weeks have been challenging. I've been pacing around the house, thinking about life and being melancholic to say the least. Why was I really put on earth? I've strongly doubted that it was to drive our strategic planning and market analysis. It has to be something bigger, not in magnitude but in passion.

Then I remembered - this was exactly what happened a decade ago when I was about to turn 30. I started to doubt, think, contemplate and question things. It started a couple of years before the 30th birthday and continuted until I finally snapped out of the paralytic state and moved to London. The smartest thing I have ever done. In parity with buying those light blue Lindeberg pants for $100 and marrying the missus.

And here I am again. Spending time on doing a post-mortem on the last 10 years when I'm not even close to the finishing line. I should spend my time wiser: planning the 40th bash that noone will forget - or remember.

Home Alone IV

Very undramatic weekend. Watched 10+ movies, from Spy Kids to Indiana Jones: The Last Crusade. Started to read the Investment Biker by Jim Rogers and got really, really excited about China and travelling again. Made a Chicken Ketsu Curry (Wagamama: No 71) and ran out of Riojas. Enjoyed two wondeful winter sunsets.

The romantic side of solitude fades in the longing for the missus. Too much thinking cannot be good.

For Trish: Perin's Pollo Especial

(for 2 persons)

7-8 chicken tenders
fresh rosemary
red chili sauce (Hunan's Heavenly Chef)
3 table spoons olive oil
2 table spoons soya sauce
peppar
salt
1/4 pint cream
fresh spinach
2 cloves of garlic
1 cup of rice
1 bottle of Pinot Noir or Tempranillo

1. Put the chicken tenders into a bowl. Add the rosemary, chili saice, olive oil, soya sauce, peppar and salt. Mix around until blended. Put aside for 20 minutes.
2. Rinse the rice several times. Cook it for 20 minutes. When done, let rest on stove for 10 minutes.
3. Steam the spinach, add garlic, salta dn peppar. Remove any liquid. Add cream and leave on low heat to reduce for a few minutes.
4. Broil the marinated chicken tenders until well done.
5. Serve the tenders on top of the spinach and the rice on the side.
6. Enjoy this somewhat spicy dish with a bottle of Pinot Noir, Sangiovese or Tempranillo.

Viva El Tubo

I was knocked-out by the Muhammed Ali's of flues this New Year's Eve. The closer we got to midnight the higher my fever got until the point that I thought I was fire incarnate. I drank water like an elephant, water that then flushed through my body faster than you could say water fall. I managed to empty 10+ bottles within two days just to keep the body temperature below 100 degrees. Not wine but water, my friends!

This New Year's plan was to continue celebrating the holidays in the comfort of our own home. I had made a very festive New Year's menu, bought wine and was looking forward to mixing it up. Most people tend to spend the majority of the last day for last minute tasks. My philosophy is to ignore the last minutes and focus on tasks that are joyful. The midnight between two years shouldn't just be another deadline but a celebration of a great end and an even better new beginning. It's a moment to remember and reflect over the past year's highlights.

Well, life wouldn't be half as fun if all plans came together. So instead of making the dinner of the year I spend the whole day and night in bed sipping soup, drinking water and popping Sudafed - day and night time - like the worst drug addict.

It's in those fever intense and mucus induced moments that your priorities suddenly reshuffles and health becomes #1. Gone are the dreams of expensive wine, faster cars and oriental travels. Well, for now at least!

Merry New Year!