Character Assassination: Phil

On this, day 3 of Albanian Cold Virus 2006, the third day of painful congestion, phlegm that you wouldn't believe, and sneezes that post a 6.9 on the Richter scale, I have decided to name the person who has wronged me and mine so badly. Read on:

This is our "friend," Phil. Oh sure, he looks like a nice, normal guy, but right there in that picture he is devising the ultimate plan to make Eph and me ill with the very same virus he and his wife, Alison, caught somewhere in the wilds of Albania. Oh sure, he played it cool, acting like Sanitary Larry, asking if I had hand sanitizer, but don't be fooled by his elaborate ruse. This man is a menace; I think he purposefully sneezed on my car door handle (he aimed it!). Ol' Phil doesn't sound so nice and normal now, does he?


It all started when we rented this horrifically uncomfortable car to go on a day trip to the Southern Argolid. At the rental place, Phil first asked for a SmartCar 4x4, a clear sign that he wanted to kill us all, but settled for the Nissan Micra at left. For the record, this is the most uncomfortable car in the world, and let me assure you that the Newtons have had some clunkers in their day. The 1978 Toyota Celica with rust eating away at the floor? A dream machine compared to this piece of total crap. Let's move on.

Our day consisted mostly of this...












...and this. Eph, still somewhat delusional after the very stressful last few months, was convinced that there were the remains of a tuna fishery somewhere near Mount Methana. Given the fact that the sterling scholarship known as the Blue Guide listed the site oh-so-assuredly as "ancient(?) tuna fisheries" and never gave a precise location for them, I offered repeatedly that, perhaps, we were on yet another Ancient Acropolis of Zarax-like wild goose chase. Phil, supposedly a fellow scholar of Eph's, did nothing to dissuade Eph from the raving-mad notion that these fisheries actually existed but, in fact, took advantage of Eph's weakened mental state and encouraged him to keep looking.

"Eeeeph, Eeeeph, the tuna fisheries are out there. Just one more inlet, one more, man. We're almost out of gas, but don't sweat it. Here, I licked this brownie, but why don't you eat it?" Eph, sensing the diabolical pull of evil, tries to resist, but Phil continues, "Don't listen to Anne-Marie. She sounds perfectly reasonable, and in fact has been right on all previous occasions, but what does she know? She studied English. That's practically like getting a GED." Eph, stunned into silence, shakes his head, but Phil hisses, "Let's climb up that random hill to look at a crappy stone tower. It may have been built in 1950, but who cares, man? Who cares? Here, have a sip of my Albanian virus-laden water, it's so good..."

This is actually just a cool picture of volcanic rock up on Mount Methana. But let's not forget that we're still flaming Phil.
















Just look at how sick I am.

I'm narrowing my eyes at you, Phil.

Narrowing. My. Eyes.