through the halls of the Viking king

I never met a Viking I didn't like  .Well, at least in the theoretical sense..  I mean, for a woman what could be better than the thought of some god-like muscle bound man of adventure  and courage  going off into the sunset in a blaze of glory-------  blond- haired blue- eyed Adonises conquering everything within their domain.  How powerful!! How romantic!!   The truth of the matter is most Vikings were farmers and tradesmen ....farmers who resurrected the bounty of the earth and tradesmen  who crafted their wares for trade and profit    I guess the latter is in their DNA.

This sense of craftmanship has traveled over the centuries, hewn from primitive offerings to modern accoutrements.   It has been placed on the altar of a new god....one that can often be unforgiving....the all powerful...all present .....sometimes frustrating  and often infuriating god of  IKEA!!

Are the Viking gods enacting revenge on us mere mortals??....Is the Sweden of a time long gone giving karmic payback for lands unconquered..  ..vanquished kings....unfaithful courtesans??..Things may be 'rotten in Denmark' but Sweden's flaming arrow launched across the seas and landing in veritably every shopping mall in America has caused more angst for more people than any scorch and burn march of a tribe of plundering Vikings

And what is their greatest weapon......??   The Ikea instruction manual!! The clean, crisp, very organized look of their furniture  is really a cover to lure you into their world of missing parts, and unclear diagrams.   Did I know that Gilda Blom and Gilda Kvall were variations of an Ikea rug and not two Swedish cousins?... that Jonsobo Barby was a lamp and not someone Ken was having an affair with ?  or that alsvik is a faucet, fyndig a sink, and ektorp a chair?

So first and foremost IKEA catalogues should come with the service of a personal shopper trained at the Berlitz school of languages.  Anyone who has purchased something at Ikea knows exactly what I am talking about.... Yet there is something  even more paramount than deciphering the language so you're  sure the chair you want  is the chair you're getting.  And that is the need to march up and down the aisles, navigate the territory, find the correct place for your "treasure" and have the strength of 10 men to lug the box to the cashier.    Does this marching along, staking out your territory and claiming your plunder sound familiar? 

 Then ....the moment of truth....the lines are drawn  and.the war begins.... you proceed to carefully review what looks like a  chip laden Las Vegas gaming table.. big screws, little screws...large washers small washers and a garden variety of rounded and   angled pieces. The ever present metal L shaped device to screw items into place awaits and with untold optimism  you begin.

Small left screw to left plank...washer and large right screw to metal clamp    ...triangle shaped plastic piece to four corners of base... large tube to .....what!!! what large tube??...you don't remember needing a large tube....and so you scramble through the mess to find the crumpled instructions and the first thing you see is the little instructional figure with a big X over it.  You just did what they told you not to do.

So after carefully  ripping open all those little plastic bags , meticulously laying out  every screw and widget and  spending   hours of trying to figure out why  the chair that you thought you had bought and was  putting together is starting to look  like a table, you have reached the point of  madness.

 Somewhere in Valhalla I can almost hear the sound of Viking laughter.

      

down to the cellular level

"He did WHAT with the chicken??? I can't believe it"  " If she doesn't tell her boss to go F... himself then she deserves the office near the boiler room"    "Leave me alone and don' t call me again....What! two tickets to see Lady Gaga?    weeelllllll, ALRIGHT ,  you can call me!!!......   Somebody free associating???   Somebody having a break with reality???    NO!.... just the garden variety types of conversations you might hear walking anywhere in the city of New York or frankly any city....or any office...or any bus...or any ladies room ...or any church ...or any anywhere....You get my drift???

Why is that most owners of cell phones feel they have to right to bring you into their world kicking and screaming  against your will.......who gives a shit that somebodies great aunt sadie is 85, in a nursing home and running buck naked to the men's floor for a little afternoon delight...or at least a feeble attempt at said activity.  And the quiet little neighbor that  timidly greets you in the hallway when you see her....why does she feel the need to sound like a human boom box the moment she gets on her cell phone.   "Pardon me miss, could you talk louder i just got a call they can't hear you in Wyoming."

I remember once being on a public bus in Italy....and I do not know if people were waiting for the bus to start or it was some pre-planned idea but the moment the driver threw the bus into drive there was a simulateous clicking of flip phones opening which scared the living daylights out of me  and for the next half hour....it was like traveling in a mobile IBM.....there is not an office on this earth that had the chatter level of that bus!!!

Or go to dinner with a group of people....what do you see??? Instead of engaging in conversation with the very people in front of them who are practically sitting on their laps, individuals have this "growth" from their ear that pre-occupies them for most of the meal...   They should have these things lanced!!

Don't get me wrong cell phones serve a useful purpose ..when you are lost...or in an emergency or if you forgot to tell someone something important....or if you are waiting for the results of your pregnancy test or the mechanic to tell you your car is ready and you can stop taking taxis and buses all over the place...they are really there to serve.

but when communication is relegated to a tiny little device  that really on some level separates  rather than connects.. then maybe the yelling into the phone is to prove you are really there.