There are certain self-evident truths in life that serve to remind us that things will not always be pleasant. These painful reminders are different for all of us of course, but always seem to visit us at incredibly unwelcome times. Try as we may, we can’t escape or elude them. Like death and taxes, they will find us. It’s only a question of when. For me, life’s little annoyances include going to the store to discover that the last sale item has just been sold, that any queue I join will inherently be the slowest and that whatever hockey club I support will never win the league championship. All of these occurred just this week.

What is it about stores these days and their insistence upon listing sale items in national advertisements and then stocking only a handful of the item in question in each of their locations? OK, I understand that these things are just meant to lure people into the stores with the hope that consumers will buy other things, but I find it a questionable marketing strategy. Let it be known to all that when I encounter such disappointments, I immediately boycott the store in question for a one month period and then head off to one of their competitors to load a shopping cart full of things I don’t particularly need. Then I drive by the original store and flip it the middle finger. I know it’s childish, but it works for me. I suggest you try it yourself. It’s incredibly therapeutic.

Another suggestion I will make is that if you ever see me in a line of people anywhere, at any time, please avoid me like a communicable disease. I am cursed, you see. Of that I am quite sure. I am not being overly dramatic in any way when I say that I have the worst luck in queues. I saw a TV documentary recently that explained this as a psychological illusion and watched with great interest, but I remain unconvinced. No, I am cursed. So please, follow me at your own risk.

An aspect of life in Finland that I like very much is the abundance of number machines that regulate queues. You walk into the Tax Office, for example, and take a number and then wait for your turn. This I like very much. These machines are all over the place here and help to regulate otherwise disastrous emotional breakdowns for me personally. Health centres, train stations and other such places employ them commonly. And let me just say that they are needed here desperately.

One thing I like to do when I travel is pay attention to the way people behave in public situations such as these. This research has shown some drastic differences in the way cultures behave, and not all of it is pretty. Take the British, for example. At one end of the spectrum, they operate with a keen sense of fairness in queues. They appear to have some kind of hyper-awareness of turn taking and really don’t need number machines to tell them when to do something. They will also verbally pounce on anyone who attempts to jump a queue, usually with the support of all present. To them, this is the height of impoliteness.

At the opposite end of the spectrum, we have the Finns. Here there is generally a chaotic free-for-all any time people rank themselves. This is usually incredibly painful for me as Canadians generally follow the British model (although we sometimes use the American model of Big Brother telling us what to do lest we get confused, injure ourselves and then sue everyone within a square kilometre). Whether it is entering a train, a doorway, a concert hall or a cafeteria, I can usually count on getting trampled by just about everyone. There appears to be a very strong ‘me first’ attitude in this country that I have a hard time dealing with. Just the other day I was in a check-out line at a local store that was quite long. As another line was opened, there was a storm of people falling over themselves to get to the new line as quickly as possible, leaving me at the end of the queue that was just not moving. This kind of behaviour repeats itself in just about any kind of public gathering one can imagine, hence the need for numbers.

Old people are some of the worst offenders, followed quickly by teenagers. I’ve been trampled by both on numerous occasions. Perhaps a bit worse, however, are tourists, especially older women. Normally well-mannered and respectful, put any of them in a queue for a product or service and they turn into savages. The absolute worst, without a doubt, is the drunk local man in a taxi rank. This is one of the most interesting scenes of all since the ritual behaviour that follows normally employs the ultimate show of disrespect in this society – ‘Diplomacy by perkele’.  This involves two or more men going eye to eye and toe to toe while saying ‘perkele’, a strong Finnish swear word. Alternately, they raise their volume, adjust their pitch and stretch out the rolling ‘r’ in such ways that resemble giant walruses competing for mates on a beach. Similar to the result with walruses, one usually backs down and nobody gets hurt. When things do start to get out of hand, their wives or dates usually jump in the cab together, leaving the combatants to shout ‘perkele’ once more in unison and then become best friends.

I have pondered at length why all this drama happens and my conclusions are somewhat the opposite of what one would expect. Going back to the British, one could argue that their hyper-politeness is not at all a general respect for others, but rather a hypocritical reinforcement of a deeply ingrained, class-based reality that exists in their society. Here in Finland, the so-called impoliteness of everyone could reflect that there is no need for politeness in a society of equals. Extending this argument further, perhaps the tourists are reflecting an even higher sensitivity to equality amongst people. Politeness distances us socially by putting us at higher or lower positions than others. So, by that logic, maybe those old ladies really respect me when they try to jump the queue. Or maybe they are just bitches. I say that, of course, with all due respect for them as equals.

My last bit of painful reality stems from the fact that I went to a hockey game in Lappeenranta last week with a friend and our sons. The evening looked to be a great night out for the four of us as Saipa, Lappeenranta’s team in Finland’s top hockey league, had been playing quite well recently. In fact, they had impressively dragged themselves out of last place by winning 12 of their last 15 games, many against the league’s top teams. I was so excited that I had even forgotten that I am hopelessly forlorn when it comes to supporting hockey clubs.

Let me take you back to 1967 to give you the full overview. At that time, the Toronto Maple Leafs had just won the NHL’s Stanley Cup and were seen as one of the greatest franchises the history of sport had ever seen. Then, at the beginning of the next season, I was born and immediately became a fan. The result was that my beloved Maple Leafs have not won the Stanley Cup since. Coincidence? I think not. I am convinced it is all my fault.

In fact, I can provide several examples of hockey clubs that I have supported that have gone from first to worst immediately after I have taken an interest in them. The most memorable example is the Finnish national team during the Turin Olympics. After Canada was eliminated from the tournament, I immediately jumped on the bandwagon of support that the Finnish team received. Most agreed that they were clearly the best team in the tournament. However, they lost a heartbreaking gold medal game to Sweden, which any Finn will tell you is the most unacceptable loss in existence. And just last week I expressed interest in the Finnish team again and their chances at this year’s Olympics. This was followed the next day by injury reports on three key players.

In any event, the game in Lappeenranta was a great night out, despite my curse. We had a wonderful time and were treated to an entertaining, high-level hockey game at a reasonable price. Although the arena has no bad seats, as I only go to a couple of games a year, I usually splurge and get the best seats possible. On this night, the top price was 24 euros (or about 36 Canadian dollars). By comparison, the last time I went to a Maple Leafs game in Toronto was about 12 years ago and I remember paying more and sitting quite far from the action. A quick check of the Toronto website showed that current top price tickets cost a staggering 182 dollars. I wonder what those fans get that I didn’t get at the Saipa game. I would guess not much.

Shortly after arriving in Finland the men of our family, who live in different parts of the country, quickly cornered me and asked me to declare which hockey team I would support. I tried to tell them of my curse, but they would have none of this nonsense talk. As the family is South Karelian, it was strongly suggested (indeed insisted) that I support Saipa. However, another relative by marriage supported a Helsinki team (a source of serious contention to this day) and he tried to win me over to his side. Both teams were playing well that year and were already well into the playoffs rounds, so I decided to sit on the fence and support both. I figured that one of them would likely win the championship and that I could back whichever team went furthest. Well, you’ve probably already guessed that both teams immediately nose-dived and were eliminated in short order. And, from that time on, neither has contended for the championship. Most years, neither team even makes the playoffs. I have cursed them both.

In the end, I decided on backing only Saipa. The team has been in the national league since 1948 and has never once won the championship. They are, therefore, the team for me. I won’t have to apologize for my curse either, mostly because nobody else actually expects Saipa to win. So it would be when we went to watch. In fact, they lost 3-0 that night and followed this up with a 3-1 loss just yesterday. My son has even clued in on my curse and regularly asks me which team I will support so that he can cheer for the other. What a smart kid!

I am extremely grateful that I don’t have anything bigger to worry about than these minor annoyances. I am fully aware that things could be a lot worse. In many ways, we can use these everyday realities to gauge our overall standard of life. In fact, I would argue that the biting realities are a more reliable way of measuring success than the things that make us happy. And who knows, maybe tomorrow I’ll go to a shop and find the sale item I want and be in the fast-moving check-out line. And maybe this year both Saipa and the Leafs will win it all. But then again, maybe singing reindeer will fly out of my butt.

Reality bites!

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