My name is Angloswiss. My mum gave me something completely different as a name, but things change through the years. Names have become labels in Internet. The photo is of my Sketchers. I have two pairs, no three, because Sketchers come in the size 41 that fits my foot exactly and are comfortable. At the beginning, before Sketchers arrived, I would wear Addidas, because they were the first. In the meanwhile you can have Puma, Nike and also Reebok, but I stay with my comfortable Sketchers. I do still have an original Addida in the cupboard, and it fits. Some say one day they will be a rare item, that is why I keep them. They might be worth a fortune and I could donate them to the local museum.
Before I began to write this blog on my Apple computer, a Macbook, I cleaned the doors in the appartment with Hara: a job reserved for Monday afternoon, just half an hour. In the menwhile Mr. Swiss decided to bring our Husqvarna lawn mower, from the cellar. The Husqvarna does the job automatically every day at the same time if Mr. Swiss remembers how to organise his computer. Oh, the law mower has a name of course, we call him Mowey.
I have my Nikon ready next to the computer in case something interesting appears for a good photo. This morning we replaced our second Dyson vacuum cleaner, the one that hangs on the charger, as the predecesor was giving up the ghost. I have just eaten a Chiquita (yes, even bananas have names).
We visited the local Migros this morning to do some shopping. They now have Coca as well as Pepsi, but I am a Pepsi lover. Their choice of Kellogs has also been enlarged, but I am more into a slice of bread and jam in the morning. Marmite is definitely not my thing. A colleague of mine was telling everyone he had original Calvin Klein jeans, but everyone could see they were a Marks and Spencers copy.
But what’s in a name? If you have to tell people that it is an original this or that, because they are not impressed or actualy realise what it is, then you could be wearing something that fell off the back of a lorry. I remember many years ago, when I was at the beginning of my teenage years and dad brought some Lamb’s Navy Rum home from work. It cost a fraction of the normal price, and you do not look a gift horse in the mouth, as dad only paid a tenth of the normal price.
Later on in the week there was a TV programme, exposing crime. The guy showed a photo of exactly the same bottle of rum that we had (I think we had about 4 bottles) and we were told they were stolen and anyone seeing such bottles should report to the police. Mum and dad were honest people, they paid their taxes regularly and never stole anything, so this was a shock to mum. She envisaged being arrested and put into prison for receiving stolen goods. Did she throw away the rum, did she hide it? Definitely not, as I said gift horses are hard to come by. She was a clever mum and soaked the bottle in warm water until the labels could be removed from the bottles. A bottle is a bottle and no-one recognised its original contents.
There must be a moral to this story, like never buy cheap rum which is usually very expensive. Mum and dad got away with it, as well as my dad’s workmates who probably had cupboards of Lamb’s Navy Rum at home.