I don't know about you, but I generally hate clubs. Not all clubs, but clubs that say they're "exclusive," or "special." Clubs that say "we're in" and you're not, unless "you're in" with us.
The French and Germans brag about their club. It's called the European Union. And they really brag about their currency, the Euro.
It's a cool club, a happening club and they say, the only club. Kind of like jocks and cheerleaders, versus nerds and losers. If you're not in, you're out. And if you're lucky enough to get an invite, RSVP pronto!
If they were trying to impress, or even intimidate the Swedes, who don't look anything like nerds, by the way, it didn't work. By a stunning 56-to-44 percent margin, the Swedes all but telling the French where they could put their Euro.
I guess the way the Swedes see it, life is just fine not being in the Euro club. I mean, it's not as if they're hurting not being in this club. They've got a strong economy, a hopping currency and a happy people. But the snitty Euro crowd warns, not for long you bumbling blondes. You're missing out on the invite of a generation. You'll be odd man out on trade, on tourism, on everything.
To which the Swedes are apparently saying, we'll take our chances, Jacques. Just like the Danes and the Brits. They're not hot on this club either, have all but said the Euro's a zero and, last time I checked, they aren't doing too shabby.
What happened? I'll tell you what happened. The “in crowd” tried to intimidate the “out crowd,” and the out crowd told the in crowd to stuff it.
Now all the dire warnings and threats: The Swedes will stew. Denmark is marked. The Brits will bust.
Yet these countries merrily move on. Tourists still come. Business still thrives. And the world has not changed.
The Swedes are still just as blonde, just as upbeat, just as sure...this club...can take a hike.
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