The best thing about management, they taught us at uni, is that a manager doesn't have to do anything he does not want to do. It's all about delegation. As a manager, you educate the team, and then you just do nothing, but supervise - overlook - monitor - and review. (As you can figure, strategic management was one of my favourite courses indeed). Now, some time ago I coughed up a wish list, where, alongside with a trip to Antarctica and botox, I put a line about wishing to quit ironing at the age of 30. Five more years to go, I thought, but alas! Some beautiful mind above us must have heard me complain, as a miracle has been discovered. For mere $30 a nice wee van would come to the door step, pick up about 12 items to be ironed, and return them - all hanged and plastic-wrapped - within 24 hours. Pure bliss, and of course I deserve it! I mean, in Germany they call a housewife a hausfuhrer, so there I am, delegating. But apart from somebody who hates ironing and unashamed of it, I am also a socialist. Which, admittedly, has got me thinking over the whole housework thing. OK, I will leave my grandma out of the discussion (if she only knew! She would have ironed it for me for half the price), but nonetheless. That ironing franchise is for sale. What kind of business is that, where you spend an evening doing something (12 shirts is no joke) and then you get only $30? Does not sound too good to me. I have no idea who would buy that sort of business- there is hardly anything else there, which is more mundane AND less profitable at the same time. I happen to know some people, who, before buying a ten thousand dollars car, would do all the research they can lay their hands on. And yet, when it comes to buying a business, they just think they know it all - and they go ahead with the purchase, the house being a collateral. Six months later it's a flop, and now they really know it all, but it is too late. I would presume that ironing is for those who cannot do better than that. Newly come immigrants, people with no command of English, no education, no nothing. But I would never understand how can anybody NOT from a hospitality background end up buying a restaurant. I just envisage a guy who has had a few nice meals out, enjoys setting up a barbecue once a year and who is glued to the food TV thinking he can just walk around his restaurant lounge schmoozing the customers and counting thick hospitality bucks at the end of the weekend. What happens next is Chef Ramsey comes around, fixing all the damage. It never occurs to such guys to go and work in a little cafe in a busy suburb, where customers have a stopwatch on when waiting for their coffees in the morning. When no one cares about haute cuisine, but everybody screams if the sandwich arrives cold. Where the real hospitality is - at the bottom. And if they survive six months at such pace - well, maybe then they can move on to owning a fine dining place. I still don't know why I care. My husband has enough shirts so I myself could do it once a month, yet I get it all done within the 24 hours. I try to avoid as much as I can going to sad, dying restaurants, and I am moderately tolerant with the slow cafe staff. Yet every time I come across such businesses I get wind up for no reason. Hard being a socialist, that's all.

All my life I had wanted to go to America. All my life I had listed it in the top 10 - to visit, to see, to touch, to feel. It didn't even matter to me which part of America, as long as it was on the coast. When I was growing up, America was something like Mars - as unavailable and undesirable to live in, but still as attractive travel-wise. I had never admired America the way everybody who likes adventure literature admires Australia. Yet the Indians (the Mohican!) , the treasure hunts, the Scarlett O'Hara story - all of that kept it very high up my wish list. I had a great time in all four states I visited. I know it was very touristy, yet I wanted it to be touristy to the point of being tacky, so I didn't mind much. Crabs at Pier 39 in San Francisco, humble gambling in Vegas, a Broadway show in New York (the horses in Central Park unfortunately didn't happen, too damn cold. ) Nice country, I thought, - probably even great for retirement. Until I saw Sicko. Bloody hell! America, being one of the vastest, richest and certainly the loudest countries on the planet cannot provide proper medical care for its citizens. I know they say we are spoilt here in New Zealand. The more I travel the more I realise how great this country is, and how lucky we are to have the freshest seafood cheaply (relatively, yes) and breathtaking scenery in any given point of the country, and two-day travel time to keep all buggers out. But I still thought America was full of life, very open-minded, very consumer-oriented, yet very demanding and very "you have to have"-oriented. In New Zealand, where they copied the British system of medical care and social welfare, essentially everything is free. You get free emergency care and the proper follow-up; free maternity care and paid leave up to 6 months; free assistance in giving up smoking; free surgery; free gyms for the obese and so on. The system works very simply: if you are unhappy with the public wait, get an insurance and get operated on in a private way. If you do not want to get the insurance - oh well, the government is here to look after you. Things are different in America. 1. You have to have insurance. 1A. For that, you have to be insurable. 1B. You have to be able to afford health insurance, as it is quite pricey. 3. You have to be lucky enough not to have your health insurance cancelled, if your health gets worse. 4. You cannot choose your doctor, as you get one allocated. 5. If you do have insurance and things get sour, they must not turn sour enough for your insurance to cover only some of the costs. And there is probably 6, 7, 8 and so on in finest print. I have no idea how Americans put up with that. With their budgeting, with their military power, with their absolute potential, they get such poor health treatment. I know France is a resourceful country, but look at Cuba! They manage to provide free health care. I imagine Canada can somehow survive by just collecting taxes, not fees. I just feel very grateful that I do not have to live there - despite of all my American dreams. And I will make sure I have a thick travel insurance next time I am over in the States. Because there is no other way.