If I had to be a country, I definitely wouldn’t want to be Norway. And most people, I bet, would feel the same way.
It’s not that there’s anything particularly wrong with Norway, you understand. With the exception of the Vikings--Norse pirates who plundered the European coast during the eighth century and then went on to lose four Super Bowls--Norwegians have always been a friendly, industrious people. Located halfway above and halfway below the Arctic Circle, Norway is a giant in the cutting-edge industries of luge technology and snow- blower science and leads the world in the production of exotic cities with strange vowels in their names, like Tromsø, Vadsø, Bodø, Chicø, Zeppø, and Harpø.
The problem with Norway is that as countries go, it’s a bit drab, a bit flat, a bit, well, nerdish. The joke passed around the back fences of the European neighborhood has long been that the definition of Euro-hell is a place where Italy runs the trains, England does the cooking, and Norway is in charge of providing the entertainment. Surrounded by such dynamic, bustling lands as Sweden, Denmark, Holland, and Belgium, Norway is roundly regarded by its continental peers as the sort of Don Knotts of nations--the kind of country that’s always hoping for the chance to carry Iceland’s books home, but keeps getting tripped by Romania every time it tries. At most high-level UN meetings, Norway can be seen running down the hall after countries like France and Japan, saying things like, Hey fellas, wait up, or Can I get a ride with you guys? Generally, however, Norway just winds up stuck at a cafeteria table with Belize and Turkmenistan, where it has to give away its chocolate pudding to Libya so it can avoid getting beaten up.
