Sunday, December 7, 2025

Quoth the Raven “Not fair"

 

Sara Johnson, 1st Sundays



I suspect, because you read Murder is Everywhere, that you like learning about the mystery and crime genre. Because so many people do, I designed a six-part course entitled Exploring Mysteries. I’ve taught the class at NC State and Duke Osher Lifelong Learning Institute. It always fills to capacity. In session one – History of Mystery – I ask participants what the earliest detective story was. The frequent response is Edgar Allen Poe’s Murder in the Rue Morgue, published serially in 1841.

Poe was paid handsomely for it: $56. (He only receive $9 for “The Raven.”) The brutal murders of a woman and her daughter occur in their locked Paris apartment, kick starting the locked-room mystery trope. Amateur detective M. Auguste Dupin uses deductive reasoning to solve the case. (The story, if you haven’t read it, is in the public domain.)

                                           


Spoiler alert: The culprit is an escaped orangutan who climbed in through an open window. Thriller writer Adrian McKinty said, “Do that nowadays and your book would rightfully get chucked, probably back at your own head, during a signing.

But Rue Morgue wasn’t the first detective story. French writer and philosopher Voltaire penned an example of detective fiction almost 100 years earlier. The novella Zadig, published in 1747, tells the story of a young Babylonian man – Zadig – who encounters troubles due to his virtues. While not containing the components of a modern mystery (victim, murderer, clues, red herrings, etc.), Zadig uses deductive reasoning to assist the King’s huntsman.

                                                                      


King’s Huntsman: Have you seen the King’s Palfrey run by?

Zadig: No horse ever gallop’d smoother; he is about five Foot high, his Hoofs are very small: his tail is about three Foot six Inches long; the studs of his bit are pure Gold ...

King’s Huntsman: Whereabouts is he?

Zadig: I never sat Eyes on him, not I.

Her Majesty’s dog is missing, too. Zadig describes her: She has had Puppies too lately; she’s a little lame with her left Fore-foot, and has long Ears. Yet he claims to have never seen the dog. The huntsman, in disbelief, sentences Zadig to life in Siberia for stealing both horse and dog. Luckily, Zadig has his day in court. He explains how his use of observation and deduction – tracks in the sand, swished dust, gold flecks on rocks, etc – led to his conclusion and he is exonerated.

Poe, who was versed in French literature, was probably influenced by Zadig. The same is true for Arthur Conan Doyle, who came on the scene in 1887 with “A Study in Scarlet.”Almost this exact phrase appears in five Sherlock Holmes stories:It seemed to me that a careful examination of the room and the lawn might possibly reveal some traces of this mysterious individual. You know my methods, Watson.”

But let’s not jump ahead.


                                                                          

Caleb Williams by William Godwin, published in 1794, is classified as an early mystery thriller. The novella contains a murder, its detection, and suspenseful cat-and-mouse pursuit. This was followed in 1819 by the novella Mademoiselle De Scudéri by German author E.T.A. Hoffman. The detective is an elderly woman, the murder victims are young men, there’s a serial killer, and it includes elements modern readers expect in crime fiction such as interviews and hidden clues. Much later it was adapted as on opera, film, and graphic novel.


                                                              

Another pre-Rue Morgue work of early detection is “The Secret Cell,” published serially in The Gentleman’s Magazine in 1837. Though the story lacks the puzzle plot of later mysteries, it features a missing heiress and an unnamed intelligent police detective. (Fun Fact: It’s author, William Evans Burton, may have been married to three women at the same time.)

                                                               


Serialization in magazines was a low-cost way to gauge the public’s response to the story, novella, or novel. If the work flopped, there was no need to produce a book.

The Haunted Homestead” by Henry William Herbert came out one year before The Murders in the Rue Morgue and has three parts: The Murder, The Mystery, and The Revelation. Author and blogger Tim Prasil describes it as clearly a murder mystery spotlighting a semi-Sherlockian investigator and weaving in supernatural events to spark and propel the investigation. 

Here’s a snippet from the murder scene in Part I: One cry for mercy! one long, sick thrilling gasp! one fluttering shudder of the convulsed and lifeless limbs! and his heart’s blood was mingled with the turbulent stream – and he lay at the feet of his destroyer.

Yikes! 

I am unaware of any female crime writers before Metta Victoria Fuller Victor’s The Dead Letter. It’s credited for being the first detective story written by a woman, but it didn’t come out until 1866. If you know of earlier works by women, please share with me and I’ll add them to my class.

It’s fun to know the origins of this popular genre. Until next month, friends -

Sara E. Johnson, 1st Sundays

Saturday, December 6, 2025

The Trojan War Myth Exposed!

J

 Jeff–Saturday

How many of you have heard of the Trojan War?  I bet there’s not one of you who hasn’t. It’s the world’s best known epic tale of romance, action, and intrigue, and thanks to Homer’s telling in the Illiad and the Odyssey, a source for countless storylines down through the ages…including the Coen Brothers’ 2000 film, O Brother, Where Art Thou.

But how many of you know the actual story of the War? Other than of course the bit about the (possibly) kidnapped Helen’s face launching a thousand ships and The Horse.  Aha, the ranks are thinning quickly.

Well, here’s my adapted telling of the tale based upon a version I came across while reading The Everything Classical Mythology Book, by Lesley Bolton.

The most well-known character in the myth is, of course, Helen of Troy, though she really wasn’t from Troy.  That’s just where she ended up spending ten years waiting to be “rescued.”  Helen was the most beautiful woman in the world and the daughter of the union of Zeus and Leda (not Leto, whose children with couldn’t-keep-it-in-his-pants-Zeus were the twins Apollo and Artemis).

Helen by Evelyn De Morgan

However the aggravation of raising such a beautiful daughter (something I know first hand) didn’t fall to her natural mother and father (assuming there’s anything natural about a Greek god turning himself into a swan to seduce a mortal), but to her foster father, King Tyndareus of Sparta.  

King Ty, as I like to call him, worked out a way of keeping all the suitors for his daughter’s hand (and a lot more) at bay by making all swear that in order to participate in the competition, they had to agree to abide by Helen’s choice of husband and defend her against anyone who might try to kidnap her.  The winner was Menelaus of Sparta and they were wed.

Menelaus by Giacomo Brogi

Then along came Paris of Troy, who stopped in to say “Hi” to the groom and, when the opportunity presented itself in the form of a quick trip out of town for Menelaus, to repay his host’s hospitality by stealing away his bride. 

Paris and Helen by Jacques Louis-David

But the kidnapping wasn’t a spontaneous whim.  Paris felt he had a right to claim Helen.  You see, Paris had been the judge in a beauty contest among the gods Athena, Aphrodite, and Hera to settle a dispute as to which of the three was the fairest.  In keeping with the sort of judging still seen in many parts of the world today, Paris made a side deal with Aphrodite that he’d choose her in return for her promising him the most beautiful woman in the world, Helen. But before he could claim her, she’d married. 

No matter, to Paris a deal was a deal and he’d come to Sparta to collect his prize. He spirited Helen away and, after spending their first night together on Kranae, a tiny island just off the port city of Gytheio on Greece’s Southern Peloponnese, it was off to Troy.  

Abduction of Helen, Francesco Primaticcio

Church on Kranae
[As a side note, that one-night diversion has created a thriving cottage industry on modern day Kranae, for today couples exchange marriage vows at a church on that spot, no doubt hoping for better luck than came to Paris and Helen.]

Not surprisingly, Menelaus didn’t take kindly to Paris’ thank you, and when Menelaus’ trip to Troy with Odysseus (aka Ulysses) to demand of King Priam of Troy her immediate return proved futile, Menelaus returned home to Sparta, massed Helen’s former suitors who’d pledged to defend her against kidnappers, and with his brother Agamemnon in command, dispatched an army of a thousand ships to reclaim her. 

But the Olympian biggie gods were involved in this mess up to their tiarasses.  Some had aligned with Greece (e.g., Poseidon because he was pissed at the Trojans for not having paid his bill for construction work, and Athena and Hera because of Paris’ involvement in fixing their beauty contest).  Others sided with Troy (e.g., Aphrodite who’d created the mess in the first place, and Apollo joined in it with his twin sister, Artemis.)

Anytime the gods got involved in something there were problems.  And in this instance, just to get things started, Agamemnon had to sacrifice his daughter to the god Artemis (a backer of Troy) for the winds to blow and launch his thousand ships. 


The Greek plan was simple, conquer the numerous towns surrounding Troy and thereby squeeze it into submission.  A simple plan turned into nine years of war with still no end in sight. Hmm, sound familiar? 


In the tenth year everything went to hell in a hand-basket for the Greeks.
First, the Greeks’ greatest warrior, Achilles (slayer of the Trojans’ greatest, Hector) died when pierced in the heel (surely you knew that) by an arrow cast into the air by Paris from behind his fortress walls and guided to its mark by Apollo.  

Then a fight broke out between Odysseus and Ajax of Salamis (non-kosher style for sure) over who’d get to wear Achilles armor (starting to sound more and more like that Brad Pitt 2004 version of the tale called Troy, does it not?), an honor ultimately bestowed on Odysseus that led Ajax into madness and ultimately taking his own life.  And then the Amazons weighed in to fight on the side of the Trojans.

But the Greeks did not give up.  Led by Odysseus they captured the King of Troy’s son, and through him learned what they needed to do if there were to be any hope of Troy falling.  The Greeks did as the prince had said, culminating in snatching away the sacred statue of Athena—the Palladium—which stood within Troy to protect the city from destruction.

But still Troy did not fall.  Then Odysseus came up with a plan, perhaps the most famous hustle in history: one requiring a gigantic wooden horse and some mighty gullible Trojans.


It was the blueprint for a classic scam that’s since played out countless times in print and film:  Present the mark with a fascinating unexpected gift.  Get a shill to tell a believable story compete with a hook that gets the mark to thinking it’s come up with a way to outsmart the hustler, and toss in a last minute twist that threatens to destroy the plan but fails because of an even greater surprise twist.

In this case, the Trojan Horse (more aptly the Greek or Spartan Horse, since they built it) appeared one morning outside the walls of Troy with the Greek army nowhere to be seen, leaving the Trojans confused over what to do with it: destroy the horse, or bring it within their city’s walls.   Then appeared a man in rags—the disguised Greek soldier Sinon—who claimed he’d escaped being sacrificed to Athena by the Greeks as an offering to appease her ire at their having stolen the Palladium from Troy. 

Then seemingly by chance he revealed a secret of the Greeks: that the great wooden horse before them was also meant to appease Athena by serving to replace the Palladium, but the sneaky Greeks had intentionally built it far too large to pass inside the walls of Troy out of fear that if brought inside it would bring victory to the besieged city.

Just as the Greeks’ plan seemed to be working, one Trojan stepped forward to challenge Sinon’s story (standard screenwriting fare these days), and hurled his spear at the wooden horse, no doubt hoping to elicit a cry from whomever it struck within. But just as he did, a giant sea monster reared up and devoured the cynic, distracting the crowd from the point of both his logic and spear.

The Trojans took the monster as a sign of Athena’s anger at the spear being tossed at an offering to her—rather than of an effort on her part (remember, she was on the side of the Greeks) to silence one threatening to expose the Greeks’ plan.

Surprise, surprise the Trojans figured out a way to bring the horse within their walls, and while rejoicing in their good fortune missed Sinon freeing the soldiers inside it and opening Troy’s gates for the rest of the Greek army to enter the city.


We all know what happened next. Or at least we think we do.  Helen was returned to her husband.  But not until after the Greeks had engaged in a bloodlust rage of battle so unsettling and sacrilegious to gods that had once backed the Greeks that they turned on them, bringing Odysseus ten more years of trials and tribulations before reaching home (after all, it was a two-book deal for Homer) and far worse fates for far more.

Homer 850 BCE

Yes, that’s a plot line we’ve seen before and will see again. And though there were no real winners in the Trojan War, there sure have been a lot of modern day literary and box office triumphs.


Many thanks again to Lesley Bolton for the inspiration I found for this post in her The Everything Classical Mythology Book.



–Jeff

Friday, December 5, 2025

Shaken not Stirred





‘I take a ridiculous pleasure in what I eat and drink.’  James Bond.

This sounds better spoken in a Sean Connery accent.

That was a quote from  Casino Royale.  Another from Thunderball says  ‘I can’t do my work on carrot juice… life’s too short’.

Well few of us can do our job on half a litre of spirits and 80 cigarettes but when you are a fictional spy, and a huge film franchise you can do as you wish. In fact, he wasn’t a spy was he? His actual job title was something else....A handler or something like that?

Bond drinks a few cocktails... Americano cocktail, (1 measure Campari, 1 measure sweet vermouth, Soda water), 

Negroni, (1 measure Gordon’s gin, 1 measure Campari, 1 measure Italian vermouth) 

Old Fashioned, (3 dashes Angostura bitters, 2 measures rye whisky, 1 sugar cube, Soda water) 

Rum Collins (2 measures light rum, 1 teaspoon superfine sugar, 1/2 measure lime juice, Soda water)

Sazerac (2 1/2 measures rye whisky, 2 dashes Peychaud’s bitters, 1 dash Angostura bitters, 1 sugar cube, Absinthe, Lemon peel) 

Stinger (2 1/4 measures brandy, 3/4 measure white creme de menthe), 

Mint Julep (Mint leaves, 3 measures bourbon, 2 teaspoons water, 1 teaspoon sugar). 

Mojito (Mint leaves, 2 measures white rum, 2 teaspoons sugar, 1/2 measure lime juice, Soda water) 

Black Velvet (Guinness stout, Brut champagne) I believe this drink was invented to mourn the death of Prince Albert.

And of course the Vesper (3 measures Gordon’s gin, 1 measure vodka, 1/2 measure Kina Lillet, 1 large slice of lemon peel, Shaken, not stirred)

 

Cocktails, seemingly have a certain shorthand that denotes a degree of sophistication or being world weary, of being trendy or of being drunk. And they are very common in crime fiction, once you start to think about it.

Dame Agatha uses the cocktail as a murder weapon in more than one story. In Sparkling Cyanide the poison is delivered in a Champagne cocktail. Chandler utilises a  Gimlet -I thought a gimlet was a wee drill type of thing!!!  Hammet uses a Dry Martini, Ross McDonald a Gibson and my favourite is Colleen Mullaney’s  Agatha Whiskey and Daiquiri on the Nile.

Doing research for the blog, and no other reason ( except they were "free"), my other half and I ordered a different cocktail each night on a recent trip and marked them out of ten for appearance and drinkability. It was a tough job but we approached it scientifically. He made a spreadsheet and a league table. Those of you who know him will know that he did do exactly that....

Bloody Mary   Score  1.    Cold tomato soup that tastes like there's a dead herring in it. Why would anybody drink that?

Negroni    Score  2. Vaguely reminded me of the footbath they used they used to have in old swimming pools to kill off athletes foot.

Dry Martini  Score  4      Drinkable. But only just.

Margarita   Score   5       Very popular with some types. Looks pretty, Fruit added to the vitamin daily requirement.

Tom Collins   Score   6      Drinkable. If it was labelled as a decongestant, I would have believed it.

Love on the beach Score   6  pretty to look at, lots of fruit, less that 100 calories.

Pina Colada   Score 7   Liquid Bounty bars. Don't know if you get Bountys in the states. If not, you just need to trust me on this one.

Champagne cocktail  Score 7   I liked this. It has a maraschino cherry at the bottom. Height of sophistication!

Kir Royal   Score    7           Tasted like the inside of a liqueur chocolate without the advantage of the chocolate to take the taste away, but very drinkable.

Tequila sunrise  Score  7    A classic, and this was quite nice. Maybe the 28 degree heat helped.

                                                      

The Winner..... The  Mojito  Score  8        With wee minty bits so one of your five a day. A nice drink under a hot sun.

What would your character drink? 

Caplan is a green tea drinker. Maybe I should invent a cocktail just for her.

Thursday, December 4, 2025

Big Six plus one?

 Michael – Alternate Thursdays

"Well, as giraffes say, you don't get no leaves unless you stick your neck out." - Sid Waddell

Reticulated giraffe browsing
Wikipedia

In my last post I argued that the Big Five (Lion, Leopard, Elephant, Rhino, and Buffalo) should be extended to the Big Six by including the Hippo. In a comment, Everett Kaser agreed but pointed out another animal with a claim of membership – the giraffe. After initial hesitation, I realised he has a strong point. Giraffes are iconic African animals and fascinating creatures, being the tallest living terrestrial mammal in the world, and boasting extraordinary physiology. It seemed to me that at the very least they deserved their own blog post.

Southern giraffe
Giraffe Conservation Foundation
 

Everyone knows what giraffe look like. Most people also know that giraffe don’t make sounds – at least not vocal ones. Giraffe can and do snort to raise the alarm at an approaching predator, and very occasionally mothers make guttural sounds to attract the attention of their kids. However, in 2015, scientists discovered that giraffe actually do make sound from their vocal chords at night, a kind of humming snore. It’s postulated that this is a communication strategy to keep in touch with the other members of the tower. (Rather delightfully, the collective noun for giraffe is a tower.) My own perspective is that giraffe don’t make sounds because they don’t have anything to say. That’s a strategy certain humans might well consider.


Speaking of sleep, giraffe generally do it standing up and only for an average of an hour a day. Lying down is just too vulnerable a position for a giraffe.

Another common belief is that giraffe have a second heart – a sort of subsidiary pump that helps push the blood up the neck to the brain. That certainly seems reasonable given the height the blood has to go. The neck alone will be between two and two and a half meters (6 to 8 feet) for an adult. Giraffes do not have particularly large brains, but they are big animals and that brain needs food and oxygen. The actual solution to this issue is even more interesting than a second heart. Firstly, the heart is large (11 kg) and very strong, generating twice the blood pressure of a human. In addition, the jugular veins feature seven one-way valves that keep the blood flowing in the right direction whatever the orientation of the neck. Quickly lifting your head from drinking at a pool or browsing a shrub can’t lead to a moment of dizziness. That sudden movement might be because of imminent danger, which is exactly when you need full alertness.


It’s obvious what the long neck is for, or is it? Giraffe get to browse higher in trees than any other animals, even elephants. That’s a feeding advantage and Darwin suggested evolution selected for long necks for that reason. A modern alternative theory is that longer necks allow males more success in necking (neck fighting) and so are sexually important. Studies suggest that the competitive feeding advantage isn't as significant as it looks.


Either way, there’s no free lunch so to speak. Although giraffe obtain most of their liquid needs from the food they eat, they do need water every few days. Now that long neck is a big disadvantage. They have to split their front legs and bow as low as they can to reach the water. It’s a dangerous position in which to find oneself in the event of a lion attack.

Reticulated giraffe drinking in Kenya
Wikipedia

If that happens, giraffe have two main defenses. The most important is flight. Despite a rather ungainly lope with the legs on each side moving together, they can reach 60 km/hr over a short distance and 45 km/hr over a longer one. Lions are sprinters. They can reach 80km/hr, but only for about 100 meters. So they have to be pretty close to get a giraffe. The second defense giraffe have is kicking. Those large hooves can produce a hell of a wallop. If the kick connects, the lion will come off second best.

There are now four recognized species of giraffe and a host of subspecies. In South Africa, giraffe are doing well with numbers growing to over 50,000. In some other countries, numbers have declined over the past decade, but now seem to be stabilizing and improving. That’s good news for the giraffes and for giraffe lovers. We must preserve these beautiful, gentle giants of the African bush.

Wednesday, December 3, 2025

A Taste For Thessaloniki

Sujata Massey 


This fall, I took myself on a lengthy, change-as-you-go ramble through a few countries in Europe. There was no excuse of book research or conferences or overseas signings. It was just to satisfy my hunger for faraway locations, and if you are going through life in 2025 America, you may understand what I mean.

The theme of the trip was one carry-on suitcase and one traveler, making choices that changed along the way, according to mood. My husband Tony accompanied me in the first two weeks, and I visited a few overseas writer friends at times along the route, but for much of the 33 days, I was alone. I left my laptop at home but brought an iPad, although I was too rushed to remember to transfer my manuscript onto it. I've always wondered whether living overseas would actually be too distracting for me to do any writing! In this case, the sheer tumult of packing a carry-on is enough to make me forget a book-in-progress. Fortunately, it was easy to just pick up and start a new chapter where I believed I'd left off. And work is good. Even writing a few paragraphs or a page made me feel I deserved some kind of an outing and a great lunch. Both goals were easy to achieve for a solo traveler in the historic Greek city of Thessaloniki.








 

My travel plan didn't make much sense to most people I knew, except for those interested in food and religious history. Thessaloniki is not an island, nor is it within a sought-after part of the mainland, like the Peloponnese. It lies in the northeastern region of Central Macedonia, and it's curved snugly around the Aegean's Thermaic Gulf. Turkey lies across the gulf, and the nations of Albania, North Macedonia and Bulgaria form a Northern border. When I saw big signs like "Balkan Shopping Center" I knew I wasn't in the Greece of travel websites.

Non-Greek influence is omnipresent in the city. Ottoman Empire Muslims ruled Thessaloniki or almost 500 years, a bit longer than other places within Greece where they ruled. During this occupation, other religions like Greek Orthodox Christianity, Catholicism and Judaism were tacitly allowed. This meant that Thessaloniki citizens had a plethora of places to worship, including the stunning Byzantine Hagia Sophia, which sits proudly in the center of downtown. 




Another landmark near the Thessaloniki's waterfront is the White Tower, which served as a notorious prison in the Ottoman period. Even though it's now a museum, I just couldn't bring myself to enter it. I have a sense that sometimes the energy of the past lingers on in buildings. Jails aren't places I enter lightly, and I honored my instinct to go other places.







Above, I'm standing in front of a place with much better vibes. This is the Yahudi Hamam, a once-bustling  Jewish public bath with separate men's and women's sections. As the Spanish Inquisition took hold in Catholic European countries, Thessaloniki, under Ottoman rule, was a haven for non-Christinas to settle. The Jewish population included both Sephardic Jews fleeing Spain and Italy, as well as Ashkenazi Jews from elsewhere in Europe. At one time, there were more than 60 synagogues in the town, and the various Jewish families spoke either Ladino, Russian, Hebrew, German, as well as Greek, reflecting their diverse origins. This situation had a tragic unraveling during World War II, when the Nazis came to Thessaloniki, rounding people up and taking thousands away never to return again.

To remember the lost, there's a Jewish Museum housed in a handsome neoclassical building. Jewish donors worldwide contributed to build it, including the designer Diane von Furstenburg, who has family roots in the city. Inside the museum, no photography was allowed, but displays have old photographs enlarged and narrate in Greek and English the community's story of rise and fall, of community inclusion and tragic betrayal.  A few artifacts like tombstones, clothing, and jewelry are beautiful to ponder; however, the most unforgettable items are the uniform, tin cup and spoon that one Jewish man carried out of the concentration camp and back to his hometown.




It turned out that Thessaloniki is a hotspot for Balkan nations and hosts an international film festival annually. I tried to go, but was too late. All the tickets for opening night at the Art Deco theater, Olympion. Still, I enjoyed watching people flock from Aristotelous Square into the theater for the big show. During evening hours the town felt lively, with people out eating and drinking and listening to live music. The city buzzed, but in a manageable, walkable way.







I felt fortunate to be able to be about two minutes walking distance from the action to my home base, a hotel called The Modernist. It's a true boutique hotel in  a remodeled 1930s building within a connected block of shops and restaurants. I had a small, nicely-appointed guest room with a postage stamp balcony that was shadowed by many taller buildings close by. A building boom in the 1950s resulted in Thessaloniki and many other cities getting packed with tall, wide and supposedly earthquake-proof concrete apartment blocks. They aren't  much to look at from the street, but I can imagine the views these apartments offer over the water.





A few blocks from The Modernist lay Aristotelous Square: a wide pedestrian thoroughfare lined with original apartment buildings in the Belle Epoque style. The city is built along the water, and it was here along New Paralia (new port) that the military paraded on Oxi Day, an annual remembrance of the Greek prime minister's refusal of Benito Mussoli's demands in 1940. The national holiday brought families and friends out for parade viewing, strolls along the water, and long lunches and drinks at the plethora (Greek word, yay!) of restaurants and tavernas. I tried to wait as long as I could for the parade to formally start, but the crowds were giving me claustrophobia. Therefore, the shot I'm sharing is how the soldiers appeared while they were lining up for their grand march.




I wandered down the waterfront to a very charming part of the city called Ladadika, which boasts lovely old buildings from the 1930s. Most of these places were where olive oil was once pressed and wholesale food supplies were sold. "Meze" is the name for a small, savory dish sold at many tavernas and restaurants in Thessaloniki. It might be a few sautéed shrimp, an assortment of meatballs, roasted vegetables, and so on. The Greeks are generous, and it turned out that the average meze was more of an entree size. It broke my heart not to be able finish some of the dishes I tried, like the roasted onions and eggplants with garlic. Do you see what I mean about the portions?




Meze are traditional and famous within Thessaloniki, but the town has also expanded its reputation with Modern Chef Magic. In fact, Thessaloniki is designated as Greece's first UNESCO heritage gastronomic city. The sidewalk cafes were filled with people enjoying food in temperatures in the 60-70 Fahrenheit range most days. At night, bakeries were packed with people taking a sweet treat or two before going home. A lovely episode in the cable show The Bear has a chef traveling to Denmark to learn how to really cook sophisticated dishes and bring that sense back to America. In that spirit, I recommend culinary types who are interested in opening a Mediterranean-themed restaurant outside of Greece consider training for a year in a Thessaloniki restaurant kitchen. Greek food is so much more than salad, pastitsio and gyros!







Oh, the food adventures I had. It wasn't just pastry grazing at night. My hotel friends recommended a fancy vegetarian restaurant called rOOTS (not a typo) where the food was beautiful but tasted a little experimental, if you catch my draft. I love roasted red pepper and risotto, but a red cabbage coulis was just not as tasty to me as a full-fledged, sautéed piece of cabbage. In a list of the city's top restaurants, I settled on the seafood restaurant named 7 Thalasses. The pricey establishment had plenty of open tables at lunch and was exceptionally stylish, with elegant service and sophisticated treatments of seafood. Knowing my appetite, I ordered a salad and a single plate of shrimp, both exquisite.  I admired the seafaring design theme that was carried all the way into the restrooms.








My language school, Peek at Greek, was ten-minute walk from my hotel--everything in the city seemed to be fifteen minutes away or less. I enjoyed climbing the staircase of the old neoclassical building to the schoolrooms. Although I had private classes, I know other classes were going on for more advanced students. Most of them are immigrants who've come to work in Thessaloniki. The school also runs multi-day excursions into scenic areas so students can practice Greek in the environment. Sadly, I'm still too much of a beginner to properly converse; but I'm now comfortable with most of the alphabet and I can understand some of the conversation around me.




There's nothing like getting to know a city through locals. Therefore, I talked as much as I could in my Greek-English mix to the teachers and people I met in restaurants and other places. One highlight was a walking tour through the city's markets and small restaurants. it was led by a young travel agent who had a genuine love for home city. She brought me to taste olives, cheese, meat and sweet pastries, Greek coffee, and a very strong spirit called tsipouro. In the Modiani Market, all manner of foods were for sale--including sheep's and goat's heads. Fortunately we moved past quickly to fill our noses with the scent of wild mountain tea and then peruse kitchenware made from olive wood. Living out of a carryon, I had no room for purchases, but I bought two tiny olive wood spoons--just right for scooping coffee or salt in my kitchen at home.


And this is how I will remember Thessaloniki.




 

Tuesday, December 2, 2025

If Jacky Cheung can still do splits, I can still...

Ovidia--every other Tuesday

It was a huge treat going to watch the 'God of Songs' Jacky Cheung at his 60+ concert at the Singapore Indoor Stadium!



It was the 300th show of Hong Kong Heavenly King Jacky Cheung's 10th concert tour. But it wasn't just the spectacular sets (like the four-storey structure his 50+ (number not age) band members were displayed on or the 20 member dance ensemble that struck me most... but the fact that Jacky Cheung is the same age as I am--born in 1961, we turned 64 years old this year--and still doing his trademark splits on stage!

In his words (translated) "I once had to get up slowly after doing a split. Now, after 300 performances, I can jump up instantly!" and he did!

"Can you still do the splits at 60?" He asked the crowd. "For Sure! Don't let outdated definitions of old age limit your power at 60!"



That and "What doing 300 concerts proves is how much I love to sing and perform on stage" were my biggest takeaway from this evening.

But the evening was also a big shock--I'd expected a Jacky Cheung crooning his familiar, nostalgic ballads, maybe with some gentle swaying. Instead he was leaping, dancing, spinning with lasers and light sticks and huge digital projections as he belted out his numbers.

To be honest, the concert made me feel a little uncomfortable--because these weren't the slow, sad ballads I was familiar with. But then when you go on tour, you need to go big--stadium-filling, spectacle-creating, write-up worthy big.

But not all artists 'go big' with digital enhancements to keep their audience. Another influence who 'went small' is David Hockney--yes, the artist who in his 80's took on digital art!





I'm particularly fond of this series because I have a little bonsai that looks like that and I'm going to try painting it now.

David Hockney had already been experimenting with his iPhone and Xerox machine and embraced the iPad when it came out in 2010.

In 2011 he prosented 'Arrival of Spring in Woldgate' a digitally created series documenting landscape changes between January and early June 2011.

Starting on a tablet screen much smaller than a typical canvas, he produced giant prints and print combinations.

Just to benchmark, in October 2025 Sotheby's live sale of the series achieved £6.2 million.
But how does this happen, given digitally printed art is as easily (or more easily) copied/ shared/ pirated as our digitally published books?

Taking the listings for this print of 'Arrival in Spring in Wodegate'



Reg format: 55" X 41.5" (edition of 25)
Large format: 93" X 70" (edition of 10)
At auction (Sothebys, London) on 19th February 2025 brought in £762,000.

It's not just about the money--you can still see life, joy and discovery in the work. I'm just trying to figure out how this could work in writing!

It's easier for us writers who don't have to do physical leaps and spins, but we need to protect our own skills and keep growing.

I'm trying to remember that as the year winds down, now that my structural edits--fingers crossed--have gone thorugh and I'm thinking about my next project.

The problem is--there are already so many things I want to do and everything I read or watch and every place I visit triggers new ideas!

And that's good too!

If Jacky Cheung can still vault across the stage and laugh for joy and David Hockney can reinvent his art with the enthusiasm of teenager with his first iPad, I can allow myself to have fun with whatever I encounter next!

This Thursday, though, I'll be at the Singapore Pavilion of the Asia TV Forum and Market (ATF) for the big announcement--(which also explains why this post is so scattered)--I'll update once I can. Till then--wish me luck!