The Business Negotation

I was in London to negotiate (with my company) to get the best price for my customer. (The likelihood of two different customers paying the same price for the same thing is essentially nil.) I had also resolved to process the enormous backlog of internally-generated requests for information. A representative sample:

* Provide the number of your customer’s employees in Latvia.
* How many computers will your customer purchase in each of the following (193)
countries?Note: Use a separate form for each country. Make sure to indicate the month of
each purchase as well as the computer model, fulfilment methodology, the registered name of the affiliate
that will make the purchase (if multiple affiliates exist, complete the form for each one separately)….
* How much money did your customer spend in 2008 with each of the following:
IBM, Sun, EMC, HDS, HCL, Tata, Accenture, Lenovo, Dell, Siemens, Getronics…

I knew where Latvia was located, and could name the 12 months of the year, but..

“Shall I make up numbers?” I thought. “Or should I redirect the query to some other part of the organization?” I composed a response.

To: Clerical Administration
From: Dan Martin
Subject: Latvia

I believe that the Latvian Marketing department, a functional unit of our GWE Regional Management Organization, is best placed to provide accurate information about employment statistics in Balkans. Alternatively, you can access the EU reference documentation and statistically model banking employment.

I appreciate these requests for information. As the request rate accelerates, I will have no time available to actually visit my customer.

Please provide the following information to me:

• Who requested this information?
• What are they going to do with it? (If you’re not sure, I have a suggestion.)

Warm regards,

Dan

I knew, by the way, that Latvia was Baltic, not the Balkan. I wondered, however, if the corporate administrators knew.

Snow in Zurich/Flight to London

In spite of HP’s extremely stringent controls on the travel budget, I managed to visit London just before the holiday. It was snowing, so I was astonished to see “On-Time” displayed in the departure screen. I was dumbfounded when Swiss actually finished boarding On-Time. Amazement drained away as I waited (and waited and waited) at the gate – in silence. Eventually, the pilot made an announcement. He started in German:

“Wir sind gescrewed. Der dummkoft von Flughaven hat die de-icing machine gebroken. Nur ein von die drei machinen bin gewerked.”

He repeated or, more accurately, made a different, announcement in English.

“Because of the heavy snow, there is a backlog at the de-icing stand. We should be able to push back in about 90 minutes.”

There are almost three de-icing stations at the Zürich airport. (I say "almost" because one of the three is very remotely located - in the suburbs of Bucharest.) Two of the 'three' were broken. In the end, we spent 3 hours in a cramped commuter airplane, waiting to take-off for a 75 minute flight. And it happened because the airport authorities in Zürich, SWITZERLAND were surprised (!) by snow(!) in December!

The Martin Family Christmas Tree

The Christmas Market is a family tradition, but The Martin Family Christmas Tree is a major tradition. Traditionally, for example, in spite of clear and precise demands, eh, helpful instructions [“No, no, no. The other way. You’re knocking needles onto the carpet. It’s not straight. Can’t you just…"] from my spouse, the first several attempts with the Christmas Tree stand end in wretched, abject failure. In these cases, the tree is never perpendicular to the floor. And, when I am finally able to achieve an orthogonal arrangement, Nazy invariably observes that the floor is not parallel to the horizon.

Thus, when it comes time to select a tree, thoughts of Christmas past flow through my mind:

“You chose this, eh,”

“.. Christmas Tree, Nazy..”

“…thing, Dan? Couldn’t you find one that was bushy and tall?”

Or..

“But, Nazy,” I whined. “It had needles on it when I picked it out.”

“It was chopped down in the Yukon during the July thaw, Dan.”

Or..

“It’s not straight, Dan.”

“That’s because the trunk of the tree that you selected, is not…”

“If you knew how to use a Christmas Tree stand…”

Or..

“It’s going to fall, Dan. It’s not straight.”

“It is perfect… oops.”

This year, Nazy’s friend Erica took us to a nearby farm. We selected a large tree (we have a high ceiling in Casa Carmen). The farmer utilized his chainsaw to trim about a meter from the bottom of the tree. (The sky is even higher than our ceiling.) He delivered – and installed the tree:

“Perfect, Dan.” Nazy intoned. “And on the first try. Give him a nice tip.”

Because I agreed that it was perfect (and because I didn't have to install it), I naturally complied. Nazy and I considered the situation after the farmer left.

“The step ladder has a few steps too few,” I noted as I gazed upward. “I think the top is covered in clouds.”

“You’re exaggerating, Dan,” Nazy replied. “I think that I can use the hook to string the lights.”

“What hook?”

“The one we use to open the skylight.”

“A skyhook, eh? That sounds appropriate.”

Official Family Archive Notification

Several ornaments were destroyed during the operation. Dan was not responsible for any of these miscues.

Christmas Market

December in Europe brings Christmas markets (Weinachtsmarkt), and Weinachtsmarkt brings Glühwein. Nazy likes Glühwein: a mulled wine which is warm and spicy. (December temperatures are cold in the outdoor markets.) I have researched the Internet to get a more complete understanding of Glühwein, the iconic drink. The tradition began in the Middle Ages (the first documented Glühwein appeared in Germany in 1420) as a way to make bad wine, or wine that had gone bad, drinkable. Note: Drinkable does not mean ‘tastes good’.

[I am not making this up. All of recipes that I’ve seen have “cheap wine” as the first ingredient.]

Recipe: Add sugar (the cheaper the wine, the more sugar), cinnamon, cloves, cardamom, and lemon and heat. Enjoy! There is a similar drink in the Nordic countries called Glögg. (They add raisins and almonds instead of cinnamon and cloves.) The drink is called boiled wine in Romania and glowing wine (Греяно вино) in Bulgaria,

The Christmas market in Zürich is not as festive as the ones we’ve been to in Germany, Perhaps it’s the venue: the main train station (Hauptbahnhof) doesn’t exude the historical ambiance of an ancient city. In addition, the Bahnhofstrasse decorations consist of a sophisticated, computerized, giant timepiece constructed from florescent tubes (December in Europe brings Christmas markets (Weinachtsmarkt), and Weinachtsmarkt brings Glühwein,
Nazy likes Glühwein: a mulled wine which is warm and spicy. (December temperatures are cold in the outdoor markets.) I have researched the Internet to get a more complete understanding of Glühwein, the iconic drink. The tradition began in the Middle Ages (the first documented Glühwein appeared in Germany in 1420) as a way to make bad wine (or wine that had gone bad) drinkable. (Drinkable does not mean ‘tastes good’.)

[I am not making this up. All of recipes that I’ve seen have “cheap wine” as the first ingredient.]

Recipe: Add sugar (the cheaper the wine, the more sugar), cinnamon, cloves, cardamom, and lemon and heat. Enjoy! There is a similar drink in the Nordic countries called Glögg. (They add raisins and almonds instead of cinnamon and cloves.) The drink is called boiled wine in Romania and glowing wine (Греяно вино) in Bulgaria,

The Christmas market in Zürich is not as festive as the ones we’ve been to in Germany, Perhaps it’s the venue: the main train station (Hauptbahnhof) doesn’t exude the historical ambiance of an ancient city. In addition, the Bahnhofstrasse decorations consist of a sophisticated, computerized, giant timepiece constructed from florescent tubes (just like the lighting fixtures found in a cold, harsh and dreay maximum security penal institution). In short, the decorated market reminds most observers of an industrial zone, The Glühwein and the crowds serve to ameliorate the situation.

The markets offer traditional holiday handicrafts – alpaca sweaters from Peru, silk scarves from Laos, bronze Buddha sculptures from Tibet, stacking dolls from Яussia, worthless currency from Zimbabwe, (and Iceland) , “real” Pashmina from India, hippopotamus carved from African ironwood and pistachios from Iran. They even have some stuff from Germany and (gasp!) Switzerland.

The missing key

A few weeks ago I arrived – keyless – at the apartment after lunch in downtown Zürich. Since I had locked the door when I left, it was clear that I had lost my house key. After consultation with Nazy, I decided to wait a few days before calling the “Fond Bureau”. (In Switzerland, locals actually deliver items that they find on the street to the Fond Bureau.)

I was very busy the next few days and didn’t get around to making the call. There was no rush; I had a spare key. More to the point, I live in Switzerland. In a few days I received a letter from my landlord – a key had been found. Naturally, Nazy subjected me to some good-natured ribbing:

“You lost it before you even left the building, Dan.”

However – it turned out that the key was not found in the apartment building. It was found on Bahnhofstrasse by a random citizen who delivered it to the “Fond Bureau” from where the staff called our landlord. It is instructive to note that that neither name nor address was on the key or in the key case. How did they find me? Nazy, who asked the landlord, explained the situation to me.

“There is a number engraved on the apartment key.”

“I know.”

“The police have a database which matches key ID numbers with buildings. When they found that our key was for Carmenstrasse, 48, they simply called the landlord.”

“Hmm, I’m happy to get my key..” I thought. “But, this means that Zürich Cantonal Police have the ability to create a key for any apartment in the city. That’s spooky.”

Note: If we hadn’t found the key, we would have been required to change (at great cost) the master cylinder in the building.