Supersize This
Americans are occasionally (and perhaps justifiably) perceived as being somewhat gluttonous. We are the land of the SUV, warehouse stores, Shaq Diesel, and excessively large beverages.* (To quote a famous Dennis Miller rant, ask yourself: "Do I really need forty-four ounces of any fluid?")
But living in Sweden makes me realize that the other extreme is no picnic, either. Why the hell is everything here so small?!? Come take a quick walk with me through the apartment and allow me to 'splain:
Milk is almost always sold in 1-liter boxes (there's exactly one grocery store in my neighborhood that has the 1.5-liter ones). When I make dinner, I can suspend the colander across the kitchen sink—that's the wide part of the sink—and though it's not even a particularly large colander, it barely fits. The garbage bin under that sink seems to hold, approximately, one medium-sized piece of trash; consequently, I have to empty it roughly every two hours. That, in turn, requires using the opening to the garbage chute, which is so small that if you ever tried to throw away a basketball, you'd have to deflate it first. (Why you would want to do that is a different matter.) The elevator in my building is ridiculous, too: it's so narrow that when my neighbor takes his lumbering bullmastiff out for a walk, he puts the dog in the cabin but takes the stairs himself. It's so small you almost have to step outside to change your mind.
And why is my closet five shoes wide?!?
I have the feeling that if you marched the typical Medelsvensson—especially someone from a generation or two older than mine—into a CostCo in the States, they might feel as if they'd been taken to another planet. (Of course, this person might have a similar reaction to IKEA, so my little hypothetical obviously has its limits.)
The concept of lagom—roughly speaking, "everything in moderation"—is a cherished part of Swedish life. But some of my shoes, having been separated from their mates against their will, are getting a bit lonely. Couldn't we all just take our lagom with a little bit of moderation?
*If I ever see Shaq driving his tricked-out Escalade through a CostCo parking lot, drinking a Super Big Gulp, I think my head's gonna asplode.
But living in Sweden makes me realize that the other extreme is no picnic, either. Why the hell is everything here so small?!? Come take a quick walk with me through the apartment and allow me to 'splain:
Milk is almost always sold in 1-liter boxes (there's exactly one grocery store in my neighborhood that has the 1.5-liter ones). When I make dinner, I can suspend the colander across the kitchen sink—that's the wide part of the sink—and though it's not even a particularly large colander, it barely fits. The garbage bin under that sink seems to hold, approximately, one medium-sized piece of trash; consequently, I have to empty it roughly every two hours. That, in turn, requires using the opening to the garbage chute, which is so small that if you ever tried to throw away a basketball, you'd have to deflate it first. (Why you would want to do that is a different matter.) The elevator in my building is ridiculous, too: it's so narrow that when my neighbor takes his lumbering bullmastiff out for a walk, he puts the dog in the cabin but takes the stairs himself. It's so small you almost have to step outside to change your mind.
And why is my closet five shoes wide?!?
I have the feeling that if you marched the typical Medelsvensson—especially someone from a generation or two older than mine—into a CostCo in the States, they might feel as if they'd been taken to another planet. (Of course, this person might have a similar reaction to IKEA, so my little hypothetical obviously has its limits.)
The concept of lagom—roughly speaking, "everything in moderation"—is a cherished part of Swedish life. But some of my shoes, having been separated from their mates against their will, are getting a bit lonely. Couldn't we all just take our lagom with a little bit of moderation?
*If I ever see Shaq driving his tricked-out Escalade through a CostCo parking lot, drinking a Super Big Gulp, I think my head's gonna asplode.
posted by Biff at 19:02
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