Early September, ten happy runners and two even more enthusiastic cheerleaders set up camp at Fælledparken for the DHL Relay Race and got ready to compete against some of Denmark’s top companies.
Although it turns out we don’t run quite as fast as we write, we were thrilled with our two teams’ performances.
Out of the 17,876 teams, “Eye for Image 2″ came in as number 2,480 in 2:00:22, and “Eye for Image 1″ as number 3,709 in 2:03:48!
Our leading man, David Hoskin, showed the way forward, finishing the race in about 20 minutes (much to her chagrin, he even ran past Nathalie, who started before him!)
But the award for most impressive performance went to our colleague Dan Elloway who, after having run only three times in his life, ran in 25:11! We think the training conditions in Norway have been in his favor - thin mountain air, intervals up and down the hills…
So next year, we’ll train in Norway. But for now we’re happy to say we all had heaps of fun! Check out the action shots below – and click on the images to enlarge them.
How does a team of writers and marketing folk get ready for a race? Is it with lunges, stretches, and hours of training?
Not so much – unless you count brainstorming as intense mental training. Let’s just say we stretched our creativity instead. It started with one rebellious mind trying to figure out what DHL stood for and coming up with:
Dopey Hoboe Limp (we’re still waiting for a demonstration)
And that just got the ball rolling. Within minutes, the entire office was cracking up as our mailboxes filled with brilliant variations, including:
David Hoskin Lunge (our CEO is known for taking gigantic jumps over tree roots that get in his way)
Ditzy Hooray Line (which the cheerleaders executed with glee that evening in Fælledparken)
Don’t Hurry, Losers (from a skeptic in the writers’ room)
Do Hurried Loping (to lope means to run or ride with a steady, easy gait – an apt description for team Eye for Image, we think)
Det Hedder Løbe, ikke Gå! (addressed to competing teams, of course)
We hope DHL (which is named after its founders Dalsey, Hillblom and Lynn) won’t take offense.
There’s nothing like a heatwave to draw people outside - and head en masse to the beach. Or, if you’re in Copenhagen, cruise Strandvejen.
So after a none-too-cool day in the office on Monday, I decided to bike home via the scenic route, up Strandvejen. As I crossed over onto Strandvejen I thought I’d hit the Friday rush hour, but as I got further north the traffic got heavier and heavier instead of thinning out. It was all black and metallic silver, bumper to bumper on both sides of the road.
An ideal opportunity for all those stuck to their hot seats to do a bit of windowshopping of course, and for those lacking a shopping gene, some serious people-watching. Once the shop fronts disappear, then what else is there to do?
That’s the only way I could reason the three-car smash further up the road. When you’re only going 5 km/h, what other reason is there? A sweaty footsole slipped off the pedal?
There’s nothing like car queues, in-car heat, and ever-so-cool-looking pedestrians eating gigantic waffle icecreams to cause a bit of distraction. And its a sure sign that summer has finally arrived on Strandvejen.
For more Strandvejen-like driving distractions and some retro summer music, put your earphones on a take a look at this:
For reasons that only the Norwegian state can explain, I’m not allowed a mobile phone subscription until I’ve lived in the country for three years. The solution offered by Chess, my mobile provider, was simple. Get the subscription in my wife’s name.
So on my wife’s birthday, I recevied an SMS from Chess wishing me (her) a happy birthday. But what is the point? I don’t for a minute believe that someone at Chess said to themselves, “Oh, it’s Klara’s birthday, I’ll just send her an SMS to give her my best wishes.” It’s so obvious that this is an automated function. And instead of making me feel like a valued customer, it made me feel like a tiny cog in a very large impersonal, automated money-making machine.
One great advantage of these systems is that they remind you of information like this. But the key is to turn this information into tailored, personal messages - if you do this, you can make your customers feel valued.
I just got my Danish driver’s license. It came in the mail, pretty and pink, and I was so proud. I wasn’t nearly as thrilled about the American license I got 10 years ago.
Why? Because getting a driver’s license in Denmark is like getting a pilot’s license in North America. Apparently, young Danes used to fly to the US to get their licenses, because ”all they had to do was drive around the block.” That wasn’t good enough for Denmark, so the authorities make Americans work for it. And pay for it – everything combined, my Danish license cost me a whopping DKK 8,000, or $1,600!
What does this have to do with communication, you ask? Well, it turns out that I now have to learn a whole new language: that of Danish parking signs. I passed the test with flying colors, but am still baffled whenever I have to park in the city. And there seems to be no learning curve as I almost never see the same one twice!
This morning, for example, I saw a ”no parking” circle and arrows pointing up and down. But then why were there so many cars parked along the curb? When I stood under the sign and jumped to get a closer look, I saw the reason. It was in 10-point Arial and looked something like this:
<--- 6m | 6m --->
So 6 meters before and after the sign, parking was just fine.
The examples are endless and I won’t bore you with them here. What I do want to talk about is why I never had problems with parking signs in the US. And I’m beginning to think that the US was simply treating me like a fool. They assumed I wouldn’t be able to figure out complex signs (the same way they can’t figure out that you shouldn’t microwave your wet cat to dry it or drive with coffee in your lap). So they made the signs so simple, 8-year-olds could get them.
But you know what? I think I prefer the more intellectually stimulating Danish approach. Because when I come back to my car and there’s no ticket, I feel like a genius. The same way I felt when I passed my Danish test.
After reading the Bad product names article in our recent edition of Wordspin, I thought I’d share this product review with you. It’s by an alternative email news service called Thrillist. The links (as well as the well-written copy) are really funny. And although it calls itself the leading men’s lifestyle newsletter, I’m signing up today. (I’m a girl by the way.)
Getting back to Copenhagen from the US has been easier this time around. And it’s all thanks to the Danish stores. This year, instead of posting UDSALG signs in the departments trying to get rid of last year’s goods, they’ve gone for SALE. Jyllands-Posten remarked on it in yesterday’s paper, ironically warning the locals not to get confused by the signs.
Magasin looks just like the Macy’s in New York.
I imagine it’s helping to boost business with international customers.
But how do the Danes feel about this? Is it ok to go 100% Anglo? Or should they make an effort with bilingual signs?
Last week, our Party Planning Committee dished out a real gem of a Christmas party. And it all started with a tango lesson that taught us copy people a lot more than fancy footwork.
It taught us the importance of knowing how to communicate without words.
For the last dance, we had to move in complete silence. It wasn’t easy, but our moves (at least mine) improved dramatically. And it was even better with eyes closed. Imagine what a challenge that was for people whose jobs depend on language!
Our very cool instructor, Linus Aabye, made fun of us a bit to get us going. “You walk around and say ‘Did you feel that?’ or ‘Was that OK for you?’ and apologizing for every wrong step. But on the dance floor, in a competition, you can’t do that. If you trip up, you have to keep going, keep reading your partner’s signals.”
Admittedly, it was hard and a bit odd to suddenly be so close to our colleagues - yet not be allowed to say a word. I felt a bit rude, even - but then just gave into it and realized that the tango world is on to something with this silence. At work and at home, we constantly hear how important it is to use words to communicate. Not physical language - words. But maybe we’ve gone a bit extreme with all that talking. Maybe some things are best expressed without our voices.
Be that as it may, I’ve got to admit: in the Sing Star karaoke competition that followed the tango, it was our voices that ruled. What we had to give up in silent dance we gained right back with the mics in our hands.
I’ve stopped being surprised by how well Danes speak English. I’ve even stopped comparing them to my former Russian countrymen, who can hardly speak any. (It’s so bad, it was apparently impossible to cast a real Russian in the new mafia flick Eastern Promises. It required speaking both Russian (fluently) and English (with an accent) - and such an actor was nowhere to be found.)
But I digress. What DOES surprise me is that, according to Dansk Industri, every fourth Danish company has English as its operating language. That is truly astounding - and impressive. I get the feeling that the world has much to learn from Denmark, which manages to gracefully blend its strong traditions (we can especially see them now, at Christmas time) with such openness to foreign things. The philosophy seems to be: If it’s good for Denmark in general, then let’s do it - without following any archaic, arbitrary rules.
How the Danes feel about this trend is another question. What do YOU think?
