A few years ago, it was somewhat *ahem* fashionable for twenty-something girls to assign themselves and their friends the names of 'Sex and the City' characters. How many conversations did I have to endure that went like this: Girl 1: Lauren is such a Charlotte. It's really funny. Girl 2: Oh my God you're right! She is a Charlotte. (They titter knowingly in their secret conspiracy, until...) Girl 2: My friend Beth says that I'm a Samantha. Girl 1: Really? I guess, but I would say that you're much more of a Miranda. Don't you think? Girl 2: Miranda? I don't see that. Who would you be? Girl 1: Oh Carrie. Definitely. (The two girls never speak again)
Thinking back on that, I long for the glory days of Classical education, when young men and women would argue over which Greek god or goddess they were most like:
Guy 1: Dude, sssh. Here come Pallas Athene herself. Guy 2: (stifling his laughter) She may as well have an owl on her shoulder. Guy 1: You hooked up with her, man. Guy 2: We were freshmen! I like strong women. At least she's not a Hestia. Guy 3: (walking by, looks at Guy 1) Dionysus! Dude, you coming out tonight? There's a major party at the Oracle. Guy 1: Hell yeah. I'll see you there. Guy 2: Dionysus? Guy 1: We had some major drinking on Saturday at the Styx House. Big party. Five bands. Guy 2: Dude, no one told me. Guy 1: We thought you knew. It was kind of last minute. Guy 2: Huh. Oh well, off to class. (Leaves) Girl 1: (walks up and sits down with Guy 1) What's the deal with Hephaestus? since when have you guys been all buddy buddy? Guy 1: He just sat down. He thinks we're friends or something. (They both laugh - and sacrifice a bull)
