Recently my buddy Sami went to Greece on a “creative immersion retreat” and stayed on the Isle of Lemnos, the home of haloumi cheese, which is right next to the isle of Lesbos, the home of every bloke’s infantile fantasy.
I even joked with Sami, because I’m a 42-year-old juvenile, “Hey I guess what happens on Lesbos stays on Lesbos, am I right or am I right?”.
She immediately retorted with “Nice try git, but I’m straight”. Yeah Sami, so is spaghetti until it’s half-cooked.
It reminded me of the time my dad John visited the Canary Islands decades ago and didn’t see one single canary. Then later that year, he visited the Virgin Islands. Same thing.
With that in mind, I’m afraid to visit Lesbos.
Sami brought a Greek mythology kids book back for her young tribe and it’s littered with fairly graphic stories of Zeuss destroying other gods and then coming to Earth and removing the fire and light, leaving behind him a lifeless, desolate wasteland and inadvertently creating Adelaide.
The book shows Zeuss’ enemies having their livers hacked out by vultures and their eyeballs and brains removed, with a good dose of disembowelling and beheading.
Just a bit of light bedtime reading for the wee-uns. Having said that, if you’re into it and you love that kind of terrifying, nightmare inducing Greek tale, just watch Wog Boy 2 on DVD.
Sami’s creative immersion retreat did inspire me with my own creative thoughts and I’ve decided I’m chucking in the radio gig to start my own Greek themed restaurant.
When I say restaurant, it’s more just me in a caravan selling kebabs. But I’ve come up with the ultimate name for my new venture: “I Should Be Souvlaki, laki laki laki”.
Yeah I know, better keep the radio job.
