Rebranding - the Norwegian way

StatoilHydro is the largest oil company in the Nordic regions, it employs approximately 34000 people to explore for and produce oil. Of those people about 1000 are geologists and geophysicists who actually find the hydrocarbon and try to understand its distribution in the subsurface. A further 6 or 700 are reservoir engineers; they try to understand the flow of the fluid through the subsurface into the well bore. There are about 1200 facilities and “top side” engineers, who control what happens when it gets to the surface. That's a total of about 2000 technical people which begs the obvious question...

Who are the remaining 32000 people and what the fuck do they do all day?

Well I think I have the answer, they work in the branding department...

Statoil was formed in 1972 to look after Norway’s newly emerging oil interests and, as far as NOCs (National Oil Companies) go they have pretty much set the standard for how it should be done. Around the same time the government also facilitated the development of a second major, homegrown oil company Norsk Hydro. If you know anything about the oil business you will appreciate the irony of a oil company having “water” in its title, especially when they are not very good at exploration. Norsk Hydro have a much longer and somewhat checkered history, including some pretty hefty collaboration with the Nazi’s trying to make heavy water for the A’ bomb at Rjukan during the second world war. Fortunately, Kurt Douglas came along and put a stop to all that nonsense.

Just over two years ago Statoil and the oil part of Norsk Hydro merged to form a very big oil ompany which was imaginatively named StatoilHydro. The name was put forward as a temporary one while the 32ooo people got busy trying to come up with a new one. The world waited with baited breath. Would it be something pseudo latin and naff like Centrica? Would they get rid of the State bit that had obvious, socialist undertones? Would they take a leaf out of BP’s book and get rid of the “oil” part, which is not necessarily great in world were fossil fuels are seen as the enemy (at least until you need to drive to the supermarket).

As the tension rose and the deadline approached a few hints started to leak out, the left wing government said that it should retain “statoil” somewhere prominent in the name, although no one was really sure what it actually had to do with them. What was left of Norsk Hydro (Aluminum and A’ bombs) said that they couldn’t use Hydro. So after much pontification and navel gazing the new name will be…. Statoil!

Pretty handy for any of the ex-statoil employees who still have their old business cards, no need for new ones.

So that explains what the 32000 people have been doing for the last 2 years, although it does leave me with two questions:

1. What are they going to do now?
2. What happens to all the stationary etc that gets made redundant every time someone thinks it would be good to re-brand?

New Car!

When I moved to Norway I came in my offroad landrover. It was the only car that I owned at the time. After the first winter the limitations of an open top vehicle with no heating in wetsern Norway became apparant so I bought a very old Volvo 340 for 5000 nok which I drove about in for a year and then sold to Atle for 5000 nok. Then I bought a 1994 Audi 80 for 90000 nok, which at the time, was by far the most expensive vehicle I had ever owned.

About 3 years ago it developed an engine fault which caused it shuddered quite badly between 2300 and 2800 rpm. Apart from that it ran fine so I kept driving it, occasionally giving another mechanic a chance to try and fix it. They all failed! I decieded it might be time to buy a new one and lusted after an A4 Quattro. After a while people stopped believing I would ever get around to actually doing anything other than talk about it.

Well after 3 years of pontification, I finally got my shit sorted, scraped some cash together, searched the net and found out that there were 4 in the area in my budget. The best was a 2005 S line which we went to look at a week ago. When we arrived at the showroom there was no one around, then Norwegian Swiss Tony turned up in said Audi. I asked him if I could test drive it and he just handed me the key. No ID, no deposits, he didn't even know what car I had turned up in. You have to love Norway! The car looked ok, so we took it out and thrashed it, hard! It was fast and went around bends pretty well. Back at the showroom I made Swiss an offer and he actually looked offended. The price was, he said, the price. Hmm what ever happened to bargaining?

So I left it for a few days and called him back and made another offer. He seemed pretty angry but at least came back with counter offer. He was learning! Next time I spoke to him he tried to say that he had someone who wanted to pay the full price, so I said ok fine sell it to them then. Then he had to back track and admit that he was not exactly telling the truth - I was having fun and he was learning, slowly.

Eventually he came down to pretty much what I offered so I am now the proud owner of a shinny black A4 Quattro. The only challenge now is to try and avoid getting too many speeding tickets.

Friday Joke - Glasgow school

The scene is Bishoploch Primary School , Glasgow.
Teacher: 'Good morning children, today is Thursday, so we're going to have a general knowledge quiz.The pupil who gets the answer right can have Friday and Monday off and not come back to school until Tuesday.'
Wee Colin thinks, 'Ya beauty! I'm pure dead brilliant at general knowledge, so I am. This is goannae be a doddle!'
Teacher: ' Right class, who can tell me who said. ' Don't ask what our country can do for you, but what you can do for your country?'
Wee Colin shoots up his hand, waving furiously in the air. Teacher looking round picks Farqhuar Fauntleroy at the front.'Yes, Farqhuar?'
Farqhuar (in a very English accent): ' Yes miss, the answer is J F Kennedy - inauguration speech 1960.'
Teacher: 'Very good Farqhuar. You may stay off Friday and Monday and we will see you back in class on Tuesday.'
The next Thursday comes around, and Wee Colin is even more determined.
Teacher: 'Who said 'We will fight them on the beaches, we will fight them in the air, we will fight them at sea. But we will never surrender?'
Wee Colin 's hand shoots up, arm stiff as a board, shouting 'I know, I know. Pick me Miss, pick me Miss'.
Teacher looking round and picks Tarquin Smythe, sitting at the front:'Yes Tarquin.'Tarquin (in a very, very posh English accent):'
Yes miss, the answer is Winston Churchill, 1941 Battle of Britain speech.'Teacher: 'Very good Tarquin, you may stay off Friday and Monday and come back to class on Tuesday.'
The following Thursday comes around and Wee Colin is hyper; he's been studying encyclopaedias all week and he's ready for anything that comes. He's coiled in his chair, dribbling in anticipation.
Teacher: 'Who said 'One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind?'
Wee Colin 's arm shoots straight in the air, he's standing on his seat, jumping up and down screaming 'Pick me miss. Pick me miss. I know, I know. Me Miss, me miss, meeeeee'.
Teacher looking round the class picks Rupert, sitting at the front.'Yes, Rupert?'
Rupert (in a frightfully, frightfully, ever so plummy English accent):'Miss, that was Neil Armstrong, 1969, the first moon landing.
'Teacher: 'Very good Rupert. You may stay off Friday and Monday and come back into class on Tuesday.'
Wee Colin loses the plot altogether, tips his desk and throws his chair at the wall. He starts screaming:'WHERE THE F@&K DID ALL THESE ENGLISH B@ST@RDS COME FROM?'
Teacher spins back round from the blackboard and shouts:'Who said that?'

Wee Colin grabs his coat and bag and heads for the door saying:'Robert the Bruce, Bannockburn , 1314. See ye on Tuesday Miss!'

Jet lagged in Brunei

"It will be fine, you can fly from the US into Heathrow and get straight on the plane to Brunei, they'll send a car to meet you when you get there".

Those were the words of my Steve, my boss who, with typical enthusiasm for over commitment had booked us to run a course for Shell in the Far East the day after I was due back from a month of field work in the USA. From the desert to the pseudo-colonial world of expat oil was always a difficult pill to swallow but even more so with a double shoot of jet lag. But he knew that I would agree, I always did. The lure of the travel, the much needed cash and an ignorance to the existence of DVT, yep I would always agree, no matter how stupid the plan.

So after crossing 16 time zones on 5 different flights, all economy, over 2 days I arrived in Brunei. Brunei is a tiny but very rich strip of hot sweaty coastline backed by a hot sweaty jungle. The locals are small, ugly people who have that laziness that can only come from being very rich, all your life. Chinese immigrants do all the manual work while the oil industry which provides all the money is run for them by European ex-pats. The Royal family is even richer and more indulgent. I arrived and climbed into the back of a car that was to drive the 1.5 hours to the other end of the country. I was vaguely aware of Chris Tarrant talking about traffic backing up in the Blackwell Tunnel. It was 11 pm and I assumed that driver must have been sent a Capitol Radio Drivetime Show tape by some distance relative working in London. Later I discovered that one of the Sultans Sons had studied in London had liked the station. This being the days before the internet and streaming media, they bought some space on a satellite and paid to have it beamed live, complete with 8 hour time difference. Such is Brunei.

I arrived and went to bed at 1 am then got up at 6am to teach a course. We taught the first day which was fine we had done it so many times we had it to a tee. Then in the evening our host from Shell, lets call him Herbert, had invited us around for drinks. A nice gesture, which I really want to decline to get soem sleep. But Steve insists that we have to go, calls we a light weight and forces a couple of G&Ts down me. Eventually I have t agree but I know its a bad idea.

Before we get to Herbert's house there are a few things its important to understand about expat Shell life...

Firstly in places like Brunei there are no bars, the only social life these people have is in their houses on the compound. Also people move every 4 years so there are no deep friendships or real bonds just short term alliances. The system is also highly hierachical, status is dependent on the man's "job group". The social situation is incredibly complex and as an outsider you will never understand the details of the dynamic. And finally there is the wives! A stereotypical Shell-wife is a well breed Dutch woman who is socially very competant but not very bright. She will be content to follow her husband around the world to a series of crappy postings while she satisfies her existence with peer group politics and her brood of blonde children. It’s a minefield!

So we end up in Herbert’s house which is deep in the Shell compound. A large wooden affair, identical to 100 others with a big garden, surrounded by trees. The pseudo American, white picket neighborhood world that is expat life. Mrs Herbert, who is actually English rather than Dutch, gets a double A star in being patronizing, pompous and shallow. I take an instant dislike to her, but this is normal and I am used to ignoring the urges to tell these types of people what I really think of them, its her house and her life, I am the guest. So we sit and make polite conversation and the booze flows. The only problem is that I now I am starting to get pissed and the jet lag is really kicking in!

I head to the toilet and while I sit trying to calculate how long it will be before I can go to bed, I look around. The room is huge, as big as my living room back home and there is a rug that looks really comfy. In fact the more I look at it the stronger the feeling to just lie down and go to sleep becomes. Just 30 seconds! It looks so inviting. Ah yes, I'll just close my eyes for a second...

Next thing I know somebody is knocking on the door. Have these people got no manners, I have only been in here two minutes? I stand up and open the door. A couple of people look at my in a confused and questioning manner. What is wrong with them? Steve says its time to go home and that sounds great to me. I am so tired.

I dig the keys out of my pocket and as I produce them Mrs Herbert says in her whinny, high pitched horsey tone
"O my gwed, HE’S going to drive"
Yep you'd better fuckin believe it bitch! So I climb into the Toyota corolla, rental, start the motor and gun it. Straight onto the lawn, then pull a very neat 270 degree donut before exiting the garden via the rose bed in to the darkened lane. Steve is laughing so hard I think he is going to wet himself and we screech off up the road. There is no drink drive laws in Brunei because there is no drinking (apparently) so we have no trouble with the law.

We get home in one piece and my bed is very happy to see me. Next day we are up at 6am to teach again and its fine, of course. Herbert doesn't mention his lawn or his rose garden but we are never invited back again – Steve blames it all on me and I blame it on him for making my fly ¾ of the way around the world and then spend an evening with a bunch of hoorays!

Friday Joke - La Computadora

A Spanish Teacher was explaining to her class that in Spanish, unlike English, nouns are designated as either masculine or feminine.
'House' for instance, is feminine: 'la Casa.'
'Pencil,' however, is masculine: 'el lapiz.'

A student asked, 'What gender is 'computer'?'

Instead of giving the answer, the teacher split the class into two groups, male and female, and asked them to decide for themselves whether computer' should be a masculine or a feminine noun. Each group was asked to give four reasons for its recommendation.

The men's group decided that 'computer' should definitely be of the feminine gender ('la computadora'), because:

1 No one but their creator understands their internal logic;
2. The native language they use to communicate with other computers is incomprehensible to everyone else;
3. Even the smallest mistakes are stored in long term memory for possible later retrieval; and
4. As soon as you make a commitment to one, you find yourself spending half your pay check on accessories for it.

The women's group, however, concluded that computers should be Masculine ('el computador'), because:

1. In order to do anything with them, you have to turn them on
2. They have a lot of data but still can't think for themselves
3. They are supposed to help you solve problems, but half the time they ARE the problem; and
4. As soon as you commit to one, you realise that if you had waited a little longer, you could have gotten a better model.

Utah is the happiest state

I have always loved Utah, despite its somewhat strange religious leanings and its very weird drinking laws the combination of mountains, high deserts, big rivers and awesome geology have repeatedly drawn me back. In fact if it had a coast line with some nice beaches I think I'd be living there now (the Great Salt Lake doesn't count!).

A recent survey suggests that its the happiest place in the US with the highest standard of living. Like Norway but with big cars and more hand guns. The map is below, interesting to note that the bit with either mountains or a decent coastline score better than the crappy flat bits in centre.

Hemsedal Again

We were back in Hemsedal last weekend with Sandy, Helen, a few other friends and a very big dog who had a passion for crouch sniffing. The weather was fantastic blue skies and there was plenty of snow. I boarded on saturday and went to climb some ice with Sandy on sunday.

Saturday night we stayed in the cabin and Sandy, his brother and Harry demolished a bottle of vodka, a bottle of contrau and a load of whisky. I was smart enough to stick to the beer. Sunday morning was predictably a bit slow and we checked out a couple of possible climbing venues before ending up back at Rjukenfoss. Everything is melting, especially the stuff in the sun.

Another great weekend, the 4th of the season in Hemsdal. You can feel that spring is definatly coming