First, there was the wedding.
Then, there was Sunday morning breakfast after Mass.
Both of these gathered together the alumni in town as well as those visiting from out of town--even the token Denver extension: little Betsy Gerrity!
Then I came "home" to Connecticut. Next thing I know, I'm picking up Mike Austin from the train station two blocks from my parish. Later that afternoon, he and Kristen Coster and I are peering at little Greek vessels in the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Wild...
There are these little containers made out of shells that the Greek athletes would carry olive oil in to "wash themselves" with after exercise.
First of all, these containers are no bigger than my fist. Weren't the Greek athletes rather intimidatingly large fellows? By the looks of their drawings, the Greeks seemed to think they were big guys.
Second of all, olive oil? "Here, wash yourself off with this! It'll make you even shinier!
I wonder how the historians know all this stuff, or better yet, IF they know all this stuff.
Maybe their just making it all up.
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A little bit of olive oil goes a long way. Really long way. And I wonder how they know all that stuff, too. They say there's, like traces of particles of molecules in the "vessels" that show what was in them. I think they've got a time machine and they're not sharing.
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