Martyn Glanville

Minced boy

Image by FredArmitage via FlickrJUST HAD lunch.

A burger with onions, bit of salad. As I was filling my plate, a colleague remarked in Danish upon seeing the burger, "Ah, hakketdreng."

I replied in English, "See? That's how bad my Danish is. I just thought you said the burger was a "minced boy"."

"I did. It's slang for a burger."

Check the diary

Image by Agent Smith via FlickrONE OF the things I like about living in Denmark is how it operates, for the most part, like clockwork. A grand overstatement, of course, but there is a certain fixed routine about the place that gives one a sense of comfort - if you are obsessed about organisation and preparation like I am.

Christmas approaches and yet it was only a few days ago that my home city of Copenhagen suddenly went festive. A few days ago - the first of December. Now I can't move for lit trees, burning candles in windows and the sudden arrival of traditional and tasty little ginger biscuit snacks that can be found all over the workplace. If I remember England correctly, Christmas seemed to start at the end of August as shelves started filling with tins of Quality Street and Peter Kay 'best of' DVD compilations shimmered in their plastic wrapping at every checkout.

It's not just Christmas that works to a strict schedule. The ice cream parlours at the seaside seem to open on the 1st of May and close at the end of September. Nevermind if there's an indian summer where you could make a few quid more as people get out to enjoy surprise weather. No, summer has ended. Obey.

Danes holiday in the same fashion. The first half of the year in Denmark is peppered with public holidays, long weekends and so on (I read once they have more public holidays than any country in Europe, but I am not sure if that's true). Everyone goes somewhere at the same time, and you are expected to do the same. "Where will you be for the holiday?" I am frequently asked.

And there's the rub. As said at the start, I am an organisation obsessive, a person who loves timetables and keeps their watch five minutes fast to stay just ahead of the game.

But I am not very good at it. Where will I be for the holiday? I simply never get my shit together in time. We are always at home because we never remember to check when the holidays are. We never remember to conform.

So my routine is shaped by the routine of others. Others do things, while I am reminded that I forgot to do things.

It seems appropriate for Johnny Foreigners like me.

Synchronicity

SAN FRANCISCO - SEPTEMBER 09: An Apple employ...

A TOE-RAG found his way into my car the other weekend and helped himself to my iPod Nano. (Well, it was the wife's but that's another story.)

Lucky for me, he didn't look in the boot where my laptop waited, vulnerable and alone. There's not much crime in Copenhagen, but I was dumb enough to hide something away in the glove compartment so serves me right.

Anyway, with no iPod, I was forced to return to my old Creative Zen to listen to podcasts on the drive to work. First, I was incredibly annoyed at how difficult it was to use after getting used to the iPod. Then, when I got to work and hooked it up with iTunes, it sort of / seemed to work - some pods played as normal, others (Stephen Fry's podgram) didn't. Add to this four days out of the office and I just fell out of synchronisation.

Even buying a new Nano didn't help initially. Of course, combining it with iTunes was a step in the right direction. But I had a week or so's worth of pods to catch up on and only limited driving time to hear them in.

It reminded me of serial television and why I generally avoid it - I can't stand missing an episode because I feel like I'm missing something - jokes, references, story - in all subsquent episodes.

It was the same with the podcasts. Hopelessly out of synch, I knew it wouldn't get better. iTunes would just keep getting new material and I would feel compelled to listen to it all or face spiralling confusion and fear that I was somehow missing something.

Then I copped on to myself and just deleted all the stuff I knew I'd never get round to. Still rankles a little. Completism (my term, I think), is a dangerous condition.

I know I will only be happy again when the number of podcasts in iTunes synches exactly with the number on my device. Only then will calm, balance, yin and yang or whatever it is, be restored.

Foul technology, I loathe thee.