In an introspective mood last Wednesday, I discovered that I just wasn’t as cool as I thought I should be. Never one to wallow in self-pity, I set out to do something about it.

After numerous flawed ideas, I stumbled upon a winner. I decided to change my name back to the un-Americanized version, H„varstein.

What’s the attraction, you ask? The answer lies within the umlaut. Hardly anyone has an umlaut in their name around these parts. It takes a while to figure out how to type one a computer. Fahrvergngen would only be half as catchy of a slogan without the umlaut. Most importantly though, it opens the door to tell people I’m from Norway, which is true, give or take 120 years, giving myself an added element of mystique and intrigue.

I sat back to admire my genius, but I was quick to realize that I had been beaten to the punch. A bit of nostalgia took me back to the sixties and seventies, when they built real American cars that got 12 gallons to the mile and spun the tires at every stoplight. A Corvette, a “true American icon,” revved its engine in my imagination. It was then that I realized that Corvette sounded awfully French, as did Monte Carlo, Caprice, Corvair, Chevelle and Chevette. The coolest automobile of all time, the El Camino, got a Spanish name from Chevrolet, and the most popular family sedan of the time, the Impala, got a Zulu name. Blazer and Nova are about the only English words in the lot. It appeared that Chevrolet realized the allure of foreign association decades before I did.

I couldn’t help suspect that if Chevrolet used foreign appeal to sell domestic goods, someone else might too. I didn’t have to look any farther than my stash of snacks to confirm my theory. My Swiss Miss instant hot chocolate jumped out as being suspicious. Instant anything reeks of 1950s United States. Upon investigation, I found out that instant hot chocolate was invented in 1957 in Menominee, Wis. by the folks who subsequently started the Swiss Miss Company.

Latching onto the reputation for Swiss chocolate is only the tip of the iceberg. Over winter break, I went to Cub Foods in scenic Eagan, Minn., where I saw a display of Ginsu knives. For those of you who miss out on late night cable television, Ginsu knives are far superior to your German knives and are now available in a special television offer. You can imagine my dismay when I picked up a box only to find a Made in the USA sticker on Japan’s best kept secret.

Another neat trick is to associate your products with Native Americans. Pontiac, to go back to cars, was an Ottowan chief. There’s Red Man tobacco, a slew of team mascots, and even Land of Lakes has a Native American girl proudly holding a tray of butter on the side of the box. The only things not benefited by association to Native Americans are Native Americans and Iowa (insert corn joke here).

It wasn’t long before I decided to tap into the same power that allows Pier 1 Imports to sell candlesticks and wicker crap at inflated prices.

When I’m at home, I watch Univision on occasion to remind myself just how much Spanish I’ve forgotten. For those of you who are stuck watching Animal Planet on TCI, Univision is a Spanish speaking station out of Miami. They show movies, sports, variety shows and soap operas primarily from Venezuela and Mexico. From my observations, it seems Latin America has the same rules that bar people with acting talent from appearing in soap operas.

More importantly, there seems to be a lot more actors named Erik than one would expect in such soap operas. Not only is Erik Estrada still riding motorcycles and setting the hearts of women afire on “Dos Mujeres un Camino,” but nearly all of the opening credits have an actor named Erik or a character named Eric or both. It seems that there are more people on Univision that use the Nordic spelling of Erik than I know in Minnesota.

Recognizing an opportunity when I see one, I began preparations for a new career in a new land. With a rebellious haircut requiring an excess of mousse, a leather jacket, and my trusty electric guitar, I could be ready for soap opera duty on any continent. I could be in Caracas perpetuating myths about life in the U.S. within a week of getting my passport.

After I got off the phone with the travel agent, I was struck with the irony of all of this. It has been my experience that some people don’t want people from different places around. Why will some people step over their own mothers for icons, mosaics and Ming vases but never invite the people who made them over for dinner? What is it about borrowing someone’s land on a long term basis that makes us think they’re experts on butter?

There are pretty severe stereotypes and sentiments about a lot of races, religions and nationalities out there. It’s amazing that associating a product with someone the audience may find disagreeable can help your cause. Perhaps it’s analogous to the difference between a roller coaster and a car wreck. In the safety of a controlled environment of hot cocoa and cutlery, the unknown appeals to our curiosity, while when out of our control (Look who just moved in next door!), we become uncomfortable and our curiosity turns to fear.

At any rate, I have more important things to worry about when money is involved. While I’m waiting on my passport, I’ll continue to look at myself in the mirror each morning and practice my lines.

“Solamente el agua fresca de su fuente del amor puede extinguir el fuego en mi coraz¢n.”

Erik Hoversten is a junior in math from Eagan, Minn.