Spring time brings flowers, nice weather, love, and people yelling out, Opa… Yia’sou… Kalos irthate… One Souvlaki, hold the onions! All of these sayings are heard throughout the United States at your local Greek Orthodox Church Greek festival. There are hundreds of them each year throughout this great land.
I’m looking at the Cosmos Philly website to see what is happening in the community and catch up on some local news. I see the “Name Day” box on the right side and read the names for the name days being celebrated today, tomorrow, and the day after.
The day I was born in 1958 in New Jersey, the doctor turned to my father and asked, “What is your son’s name?” My father, being a proud Greek, replied, “Argyrios, after his grandfather.” The doctor, baffled, stared at him.
Author Annie Proulx, said, “You know, one of the tragedies of real life is that there is no background music.
I’ve been debating about, first, writing this article, and second, posting it. I have decided to do both. For this occasion, I have dressed in armor for the onslaught of criticism, hate mail, and the evil eye I suspect I will receive.
Another year has come and gone and soon 2015 will be upon us. I have tried to educate you in the ways of Greek-Americans (and Canadians too). I have tried to broaden your horizons. I have tried to instill in you the pride in our culture.
Usually I write an article about my experiences as a Greek-American, but today (and few times throughout the year) I will take a break and let my father, Jerry (Vangeli) Karapalides, tell his stories about growing up in Greece back in the old days, or his visits back to the old country.
Previously, I published the post, “Hartoura – The Art of Throwing”, where I discussed the different styles of throwing “tips” on Greek bands or someone dancing, especially if dancing a zembekiko. The response was unbelievable.
At a recent Greek festival, I was sitting down drinking a Frappe, people watching, enjoying the weather, and listening to the haunting melodies of the bouzouki coming over the loudspeakers. Ahhhh… the sound of the bouzouki. An instrument that makes your emma rise to heart attack levels when it solos.
The first thing that comes to your mind is how I got Cosmos Philly to publish this article with a title like that? Easy, my lawyers are bigger and more expensive than the Cosmos Philly lawyers. Mine are smart too. I don’t pay them all that money for nothing.
I like leftovers. I’m sure most of you out there agree. But, no, I’m not talking about leftovers like meatloaf, turkey from Thanksgiving dinner, or Mom’s spanakopita from Easter. What I am referring to are those Greek guys.