The Most Baffling Thing I Ever Witnessed

I've been baffled by many things, but there is one thing that still baffles me to this day, which was especially very strange and eerie.

Without identifying this person, there is some background information I will also share that may or may not have something to do with the incident.

The incident took place in my college dormitory. I was a senior and I was engaged to be married to a fellow student. One afternoon I was in the dorm room of my fiance, and through the paper-thin walls of the room we would often hear her next door neighbor snoring as she took a nap. But one day it was not snoring coming out of her as she napped, but something that was like ritual chanting - specifically Native American chanting is the closest I could describe it as, and it was done in a language I could not identify. It was not a recording of any sort, because her voice was distinct, yet the ritual chanting was done as if it was a professional doing it without interruption and without any hesitation and as creepy as it sounded it was done quite beautifully. It was constant, loud, and went on for at least an hour.

How I Won a $50 Gift Card To a Local Restaurant

Last night I received a message informing me that I won a $50 gift card to a local restaurant.

The contest to win the gift card came from a local movie theater on social media, who asked a question, and said the best answer will get an undisclosed prize. The question was: "What two movies from two different time periods, preferably one classic and one modern, would make a great double feature?" For fun I submitted an answer, and out of over 300 responses my choices won.

It's sort of by a combination of circumstance and reflection that I gave the winning answer. Here's the story.

A few weekends ago one of my favorite local theaters, a cinema that dates back over a hundred years, reopened after many months, and their first weekend they showed Casablanca, so I went to see it. It's a classic great film that I usually try to see on the big screen whenever I get an opportunity.

An American Boy With His Greek Communist Uncle

 

A few weeks ago my uncle Niko, the brother of my father, passed away, as I mentioned in my last post, and today I learned another uncle of mine, Philipa, the husband of my father's sister, died in Athens. Like my uncle Niko, I had not seen nor spoken with my uncle Philipa since 2001.

My uncle Philipa was an interesting character. Most of my stories with him go back to the summers of 1991 and 1992, when I spent some time with him.

What was interesting about my uncle Philipa was that he was a Greek communist, whose every fiber of his being was deeply political. And of all the members of my family, all his anger at both the government and ecclesiastical system was projected onto me. He wanted me, though I was only a fifteen year old American, to understand his perspective on politics and the Church. Why? I'm not sure. My thinking at the time was he either wanted me to believe things like him, because I seemed to be the only intellectual in the family, or he wanted someone like me to understand him and justify his thinking.