High life
Some like it hot
Taki
Athens hishis is the first time in the ten years I have been writing on high life from the cradle of selective democracy that I have some good news to report. Artwise. Look- ing around me, it is obvious to even as biased a person as myself that the Athen- nians of the Papandreou period have final- ly caught up with those black and Hispanic draftsmen New York sociologists refer to as graffiti or subway artists.
As there is no underground in the birthplace of oligarchy, the descendants of Apelles practise their art on every avail- able building, dwelling, and statue of the ancient city. Needless to say, there are no greens or parks either, only cement, which helps art flourish as never before. At least not since the Golden Age of Pericles. In fact so much so one feels that the only difference between being above ground in Athens or below ground in New York is the muggers. There are no muggers in the streets of Athens because they're all in the ministries and in parliament.
This week, while the temperature soars to numbers which would make the devil himself demand an air-conditioner, the muggers are all busy at work in their cool offices. The pro-government newspapers and the government-controlled radio and television (the telephones are government- controlled too, otherwise I would phone this story in) are busy extolling the work habits of the muggers, but I know better. Air-conditioners have been known to break down in private houses, but never in ministries.
In the meantime, the minister of health, a clown by the name of Mangakis, which literally translated means a little rascal, went on television and proudly announced that the armed forces were on alert to combat the next heat wave, and reassured the populace that there would be fewer deaths this time around. The result was that one and a half million Athenians fled the city in panic. Mangakis, however, proved himself right. Very few died of the heat, but a hell of a lot died in car accidents during the exodus.
Mangakis, incidentally, is an old buddy of mine. I was once asked to round up a few dissidents just after the fall of the colonels for a William F. Buckley televi- sion show regarding Greece, and I thought the little rascal might make a good guest. Being a gentleman of the old school, I did not challenge him when he assured me his English was better than the Queen's. Once the cameras began rolling, I began to wonder which queen he had in mind. It must have been Cleopatra, because most dogs I know understand more English than he did.
But never mind. Why complain about the little rascal's English, when his Greek ain't so good either? When some brave soul said he should resign following the deaths of so many poor and elderly, the minister of 'health' answered that he didn't understand what the brave soul meant.
I guess being elderly is not what it used to be in the birthplace of Melina Mercouri. Once the Papandreou regime got rid of the local oldies, they turned their attention to the foreign ones. The British granny who failed to serve cucumber or tomatoes, but served chilli sauce instead, and was thrown into prison for it, is the first example that comes to mind. Then there was an old lady from Czechoslovakia who drove her new Mercedes to Greece (she sold her house after her husband's death and bought a diesel Mercedes 200) and had it confiscated due to an error of the customs authorities which listed the car as illegally imported. When the error was traced the car had already been sold in auction at way below its market price and the buyer refused to return it. Oh yes, I forgot to mention who the buyer was: Yannis Papadopoulos, an MP for the Papandreou clique, and former minister for northern Greece.
Members of parliament have priority when confiscated cars are sold in auction, but the fact that their favourite pastime is to gawk at Audis and BMWs at border crossings I am sure is only paranoia on my part. I guess I'm a suspicious soul, but that's what happens when one is a third- rate writer living in the Golden Age of Andreas.
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