It's all Greek to me

Imagine going to the library and saying, "Give me a book. Which book? I don't know. Your best one."

I'm in a situation like that. But rather than get directly to the point, let me first tell you about my old housemate George. I do mean old—he was at least fifty or so. Yet, it was as though he had never lived with other people before, because he was incredibly annoying.

As just one example, he'd take over the entire kitchen when he ate, blasting his Greek language lesson tapes, covering the entire counter and table with his food, and sticking his gangly legs out into the middle of the room as he sat. He'd take off his shirt to eat too. One time I poured out a bunch of hot bacon grease into a can and was carrying it to the door to throw it out into the street (this was the best disposal solution I had at the time for some reason) and accidentally dropped it all over his discarded shirt, which he'd left on the floor.

"Gee, I'm sorry, George," I said. "I spilled grease on your shirt."

"AAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUGGHHHH!" George roared, grabbing the shirt and tearing up the stairs. "FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK! SON OF A FUCKING BITCH!"

"ONE MORE THING," I heard over the sound of running water. "ONE MORE FUCKING THING AND I'M GONNA FUCKING LOSE IT!"

George came back down the stairs. "I know you're sorry," he said in a perfectly even, calm voice. "But that's my favorite shirt. I got it in Paris. If you have anything that might help me clean it up, I sure would appreciate it."

As you can see, George was not only annoying, but also potentially insane. Aside from the fits of rage, why leave your favorite shirt on the floor? He eventually moved to Dubai, where with luck he'll get kidnapped and beheaded. My only regret is that he appeared to have a prosthetic finger that I was hoping to accidentally pull off when shaking hands goodbye, but he slipped out without ever giving me the chance.

At least, that was my only regret. He would come in handy now. As I mentioned, he constantly listened to Greek language lesson tapes, because he was a major Hellenophile. He seemingly really, really wanted to be Greek, to the extent of moving to Greektown and learning the language, the recipes, the everything. He was all about the playing of the souvlaki and the eating of the bouzouki.

I personally have little interest in this. But I've been assigned to get my sister's Greek fiancé a CD of Greek pop music for Christmas, and while I can find the Greek music store easily enough, I'll have no idea what to get when I'm in there, which brings us back to the library analogy. I stand a very real danger of walking out with the Greek version of Hall and Oates. Brain-Damaged Toula is no help, since she listens to the American version of Hall and Oates. But George might be some help here.

Then again, maybe not. He'd occasionally come home and say, "I got a Greek movie. Want to watch it with me?" To him, "Greek" and "good" were pretty much the same word. Anything drenched in olive oil was automatically delicious (even though he didn't have the sense to get extra-virgin instead of just plain virgin), and that went for pretty much every aspect of the culture. Greek is good, to misquote that lizard guy from Wall Street.* But then again again, I hear that a lot of actual Greek people think this way too. So maybe he really would be of some help.

I have no clue. Do any of you know anything about Greek music?


*I swear he's a lizard. First, Michael Douglas is seriously reptilian. And second, the guy's name was Gordon Gecko or some such thing.