It is now time for you all to meet my friend Davos. Davos is a good friend for many reasons, but mainly because of his willingness to entertain his friends with his amazing skill at a most unusual instrument.
I met Davos only last week. It’s hard to believe I have known him for such a short time, because my memories of him are so dense and penetrating. Our friendship began on the beach at Gythia. Kate, Darrell, Sarah and I were enjoying the last rays of sun, when a man (who we later came to know as Davos) who was probably between 35 and 40 and wearing nothing but a blue speedo approached us. He crouched down and smoothly asked us if we had been swimming. Seeing that he had been watching us from down the beach for quite a bit and that none of us were wet or wearing swimming suits, it wasn’t quite as smooth as he had hoped. But he seemed friendly enough and considering that there were four of us (one of whom was a boy), we weren’t intimidated or concerned. He struck up a conversation, and we quickly realized that he was quite intelligent. He knew a number of languages, was very well traveled, well read and well educated. He owned a bookstore in town, which all of us found interesting. Additionally, he was full of local folklore, telling us all about the different winds and predicting how the winter would be based on signs he’d gathered through the year. We asked him for suggestions on a place to eat, and he informed us of the wineshop which I mentioned in an earlier post. It sounded charming (as it most definitely was) and we were convinced that we should go there.
Davos left the beach about 30 or 45 minutes before we did. When we left, we decided to go straight to this wineshop because we were all tired and figured that if we went back to our room we wouldn’t make it out again. We sat down as the sole customers and ordered our drinks and were deciding on dinner when Davos appeared at the shop. It turned out his bookstore is only a few stores down from the wineshop. He pulled up a chair and proceeded to order a wide array of food for us to try. It was all delicious and he was a most excellent host. This was Greek hospitality.
Dinner went on for quite a while, and we were all stuffed, tired and ready to fall into bed. Davos, however, had other plans. He kept making references to getting icecream, and while we kept telling him that we had no room, he was insistent. So when we left the restaurant and he began to walk down the street, we followed. We entered a door and suddenly found ourselves in Davos’ apartment, a very sweet bachelor pad. There were windsurfers, fancy bikes, and a huge amount of electronic equipment. I thought to myself, “Hmmm, maybe he has to get something.” But no, he emerged with some chocolate and water and had us sit down on his couch, which we all did while looking at each other and making puzzled faces. “Whatever,” we thought, “he’s a nice guy and with such a big group of us, it can’t really be sketchy or anything.” This was, however, before he turned out the lights and lit the candles. At this point, I couldn’t help but begin to giggle. I was overly tired and at that point of silliness. But it only got better. With the ambience set, Davos pulled out his guitar, positioned his microphone and began to play and sing for us. He did the Beatles, Eric Clapton, and Bob Dylan, playing okay on the guitar but singing like he had never before actually heard the songs. We tried to help out, but there wasn’t much we could do. So yes, at this point, I was out and out laughing. I couldn’t help it. Neither could Kate or Sarah. Darrell remained fairly composed. “What,” I wondered, “does he think he is doing? Is this normal? Would he do this even if we weren’t here and thought he’d just share it with us? Does he think we’re impressed? Am I in the freaking twilight zone?”
And then it was confirmed, I really was in another world. While playing a Greek song which none of us knew, Davos pulled out a golden kazoo and began to play. That’s right…a golden kazoo. It was made out of real metal and was quite elaborate. Yet it was definitely a kazoo…that weird, strange instrument that usually appears only in goodie bags at children’s birthday parties. There was nothing I could do at this point but collapse into gut-wrenching laughter. I buried my head in the pillows and howled. I literally thought I might die because I couldn’t catch my breath. It was unbelievably funny. It was a moment like no other. I looked around the room and took it all in, told myself to remember every little detail. It was a once in a lifetime occasion. It was not to be forgotten. No matter how hard I try I’ll never be able to tell you how funny it really was. But just imagine…a couch, a set of bicycles strung with Chinese lanterns, the soft glow of candles, a guitar, and a one of a kind golden kazoo. Ah, Greece.
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