In conversation this morning the observation was made that American milk is sweeter than Finnish milk. Remember the commercials, I said, "that's because it comes from California cows, and our cows are happy!" (Watch, for instance: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lRx8FHLLypw if the whole California happy cow phenomenon is meaningless for you). Thinking on it a moment longer, I continued, "Whereas your Finnish cows are grumpy - and why wouldn't they be, all cooped up in barns all winter, cold and dark. I think that explains the prevalence of sour milk in your country! It all makes sense now! Sweet milk: happy California cows. Sour milk: grumpy Finnish cows."
I was joking around, of course, and I think everyone knew that. Well, not entirely. I mean, it's not as though our milk is injected with high fructose corn syrup (but watch out for developments!). The taste is at least in part a function of what the cows ingest, so with different diets then sure, the milk is gonna taste different. Maybe they eat high fructose corn syrup?
The joking also plugs into the whole stereotype of the Finn being dark and morose, a fairly popular image that yields other things like the comic I cut out and put on our refrigerator that says "Jarkko's Finnish Pub: Sadness hour 5:00-7:00." Or the joke: a Swede and a Finn were at a bar. They both got shots and the Swede said "skol!" and the Finn said nothing. They got another round of shots. The Swede said "skol!" and the Finn said nothing. Another round, again the Swede says "skol!" and the Finn says nothing. Fourth round, the Swede says "skol!" and the Finn says, "are you here to drink, or to talk?"
And I think the moody, morose stereotype IS embodied by some Finns - I think some do it sort of reflexively/humorously, some maybe have it as innate, maybe some as an unconscious absorption of a cultural theme - I don't know! Damn it Jim, I'm a doctor, not a psychiatrist or sociologist. All I can say is that I just adore the Finns I feel I've gotten to know who at first I might have thought were quiet and moody, but I learned have the biggest hearts and best senses of humor, ever.
But there was this other fellow, a Finnish colleague of Göran's, who came over for dinner. He embodied the grumpy type and I don't think he was kidding around about it at all. I'll never forget him because he was so proud that Lordi - a Finnish heavy-metal group - had won the Eurosong competition, so we were watching their music videos. (If you think you'd like to get a glimpse, I suggest: http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=15872716). And any mention of Swedes or Sweden would send him off into "Ach! Those damned Swedes, so fucking cheerful!" If you can hear those words in your head as being a bit ponderously uttered in a Finnish accent, it's all the better. I thought it was freaking hilarious, especially because he seemed so serious about it! I was finding every reason I could to use "Sweden" or "Swede" in a sentence, just to see if it would get him going. It never failed. Crazy Finns!
So anyway, grumpy Finnish cows - why shouldn't they exist? Can you prove they don't? And I'll bet at least some of them complain, in Finnish-cow-language, about the damned perky Swedish cows, or those fucking happy California cows and their damned sweet milk! Or so it goes in my imagination.
But here's something my imagination wouldn't have come up with: a line of beauty care products under the mood "Grumpy Cow" - I found it when I was googling for an image of a grumpy cow and found images of bottles of lotion and bath gel instead - crazy Brits! See: http://www.cowshedonline.com/grumpy_cow/grumpy_cow_uplifting_bath_shower_gel-c84635p84665.html
Later, as I was driving into the office, with it being all sunny and warm I had the windows down in the car and the sheet music for my bluegrass jam at 11:30 in the backseat started flying around, and that made me think of the song "Dust in the Wind," but with music in the wind instead of dust.. All we are is music in the wind - that sounds much less deathy and less inert than dirt in the wind! It sounds even a little beautiful, as the air is that through which music is made and carried. The wind in the chimes. Through a flute. Throbbing through the air from the vibrating strings of a bass. Our voices in song. Our voices also as we speak is melodic. Is it too bizarre to think of ourselves as music, too, in a way? Conceptualize our shared space as being - not inhabited by physical bodies - but inhabited by ourselves as something like point-sources of sound instead. And if we are, in some sense, music - what song are YOU playing? What song would you rather be playing? Are they the same thing?
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