Dear Kid,

Once upon a time, there was a god named Zeus. The only thing Zeus liked better than hurling the occasional thunderbolt was cheating on his wife (Hera). Hera did not generally (and by “generally” I mean “ever”) take these extramarital bouts with grace and dignity.

In this case upon a time, there was a lovely young mountain nymph named Echo. Echo was a sweet young thing and by “sweet young thing” I mean Echo loved to talk—and to hear herself talk. (You are too young to remember the doll called Chatty Cathy, but it may be a toned-down version of Echo.) There was nothing Echo felt compelled to keep quiet about. Echo was often amusing and entertaining and on the day of this part of the story she was amusing and entertaining Hera.

Zeus loved having Hera amused and entertained and therefore not paying attention to his every move. So he put those moves on the other mountain nymphs. No one said Zeus was brilliant—just randy.

Hera jumped directly to the (incorrect) conclusion that Echo was amusing and entertaining her (Hera) so Zeus could get away with his shenanigans. Which shows the dangers of circumstantial evidence. It also shows the danger of hanging out in the vicinity of the gods, because Hera punished Echo even though her only crime was being in love with her own voice (and therefore being something of a twit).

As punishment, Hera took away Echo’s voice and gave her (Echo) only the ability to repeat words someone else said. This did not improve Echo’s twitness.

Meanwhile, there was a boy (the son of a nymph and a river god) named Narcissus. Narcissus was a good looking dude. From the time he was a wee tot, he made the annual Top Ten Good Looking Dudes list and from the time he was 10 he owned the number one slot. People fell all over themselves falling madly in love with Narcissus, but Narcissus was the most vain individual on the planet (measured by the Bloomberg Vanity Score) and showed no interest in women, men, or goats.

Echo, in her voiceless nymph body, also fell madly in love with Narcissus. Like a love-sick puppy, she followed him around, saying (of course) nothing.

One day during all this following aroundness, Narcissus thought he heard someone. “Yo! Who’s there?” asked Narcissus. “Yo! Who’s there?” repeated Echo (since all she could do was repeat his words). Narcissus was unimpressed by this dialog. “I said ‘Who’s there’” challenged Narcissus. “I said ‘Who’s there?’” Echo echoed. After this had gone on for a while, Echo leaped out from behind the tree where she’d been hiding and threw her arms around Narcissus.

Much to her amazement, Narcissus did not thereupon declare his undying love for her. Rather, he declared his undying assessment that she belonged in a looney bin. Devastated, Echo wandered off, wasting away until only her voice was left.

Narcissus continued to shun all who adored him. At some point (the timing is sketchy) someone (the gender is sketchy) fell in love with Narcissus and, being scorned, called on Artemis (goddess of the hunt, the moon, and falling in love) to do something about Narcissus and his vanity. Artemis was big on revenge and decided to punish Narcissus.

It’s amazing what deities could get away with in those days.

It so happened then that Narcissus found a pond and wished to take a drink. It was a beautiful pond full of beautiful, clear water that reflected like a mirror. When Narcissus leaned over to take a drink, he saw the most gorgeous creature he’d ever laid eyes on.

Yep, he’d fallen head over heels with his own reflection. And because of Artemis’ intervention, there was no escape.

Narcissus sat at the edge of the pool gazing at the reflection of his beautiful self until either he faded away or killed himself out of desperation (the details in the autopsy report are sketchy). What is clear is that where he died a flower grew. Its blossom leaned out over the water to watch itself. And the nymphs called it narcissus.

Lessons for the day: Do not piss off the gods. Be humble in thy mirror.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Once upon a time, there was a Norse god named Odin. He was the head number one deity dude and was specifically in charge of War, Death, and Knowledge. War, Death, and Knowledge didn’t always appreciate having someone in charge of them, but they went along with it most of the time because they didn’t have much choice in the matter.

Unlike our good friend Athena who was all about war with honor, Odin was all about war for raw and chaotic frenzy—what fun. It was said that his mere presence could strike the enemy blind, deaf, and impotent. Which should give you some idea of what he looked like. It should also help you understand why the little blue pill is also known as an anti-Odin or Odin-dote.

Justice and Fairness weren’t all that interesting to Odin (which caused J & F to pout) but Knowledge was. (The answer key to the SATs would have appealed much more than the notion of rescuing a fair maid.) Odin was very big on gathering military intelligence. His ravens (the original winged drones) were tasked with zooming around the world bringing back reports. Sometimes Odin even used the info they brought back.

Odin had only one eye. He had traded the other for a drink from the Well of Wisdom. (This is the source of the phrase “an eye for a well.”) College students would be well (ha!) advised to avoid trading body parts for promises of knowledge unless they have indisputable evidence of being immortal.

If you were looking for Odin (at least in those days), you might not find him in Asgard or Valhalla since he frequently wandered. Odin liked to travel but was not keen on being recognized so was generally in disguise. He didn’t carry a passport which was OK since gods weren’t often asked to present a passport.

These days Odin is making a big comeback in movies and video games. Which just goes to show something, but I’m not at all sure what.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Today is Hercules’ birthday!

Do you know how I know? Because My Friend the Internet told me so. MFI may or may not be right, but that’s beside the point. Hercules isn’t around to offer cake, but neither is he around to debate his actual natal day, so I say let’s go for it.

Happy Birthday, Hercules!

And so, to a bit about Hercules.

Hercules was a man and a god which made it difficult to decide which department to shop in when buying clothes. His lineage was a bit complicated, but basically he’s his own uncle and his own grandfather. It’s possible he’s also his own niece but there is very little evidence to back that up.

Hercules (or Heracles if you prefer) was quite a ladies man, and he clearly had not read any of the latest college campus materials because he left a lot of baby Herculeses running around. And by “a lot” I mean no one can count that high.

Hercules was by no means dumb, but he did one extraordinarily stoooopid thing in his life—he got Hera mad.

Now, when Greek or Roman gods got mad, they tended to throw a lightning bolt or smote the offender. Quick, easy, done.

Goddess tended to go for the long, drawn out, endless torture. (You may recall that Athena held a grudge or two.) In this case, Hera decided to punish Hercules by sending him to work for King Eurystheys. It was a bit (and by “a bit” I mean waaaaay) more complicated than that, but in the end that’s what it amounted to.

So Hercules went off to do whatever Eurystheys wanted.

What Eurystheys wanted was to make Hercules work (and suffer).

Enter Treachery (stage right), Suffering (stage left), and a bunch of crazy creatures (from all directions).

Eurystheys came up with a bunch of chores for Hercules. These weren’t ordinary please-take-out-the-garbage chores. They were Herculean (as it were).

There are conflicts about which task was first (MFI wasn’t around then to document things precisely), but basically Hercules went around slaying and capturing big, bad, terrifying, mythical (or perhaps not) creatures with an occasional break for cleaning out the stables and stealing things that didn’t belong to him.

One of the creatures he captured was Cerberus, the three-headed dog. This is important because Cerberus shows up (in disguise) in Harry Potter. Remember his pseudonym?

After Hercules had completed 12 of his 10 tasks (it got a little complicated what with Eurystheys saying Hercules couldn’t have help and Hercules needing help for some of the tasks), our hero went on more adventures because that’s basically the job description of a man-god.

He was also one of the first male supermodels and almost always insisted on posing nude while he flexed his muscles. You might see proof of this in your Art History class. When he got tired of posing he became a film star.

Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday Dear Hercules, Happy Birthday to You!

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Once upon a time, people landed on the shores of these here United States and bought Manhattan for a handful of baubles. Real estate prices have gone up since then.

On August 8, 1786 (more than 200 years ago—I point this out since you’re still on summer break and I’m sure your internal calculator isn’t working), the Continental Congress authorized the issuance of the US dollar. The term “dollar” had already been in use for some time thanks to Back to the Future Part 126 (which has yet to be filmed).

The US Mint was created by Congress in 1792. Unhappily for 40% of the people touring the building, the Mint doesn’t produce Girl Scout Cookies. Unhappily for the remaining 60% of the tourists who know what the Mint really does, they do not hand out samples.

Early money was chunky since it was made out of gold, silver, and the aforementioned beads. The first paper money was hand-drawn on cocktail napkins and people were therefore unsurprisingly skeptical. Unsurprisingly (again), War was the instigator of change (extra points for remembering the Greek Goddess of War).

The change (not to be confused with pocket change) came about because in 1861 Congress needed money to finance the Civil War. So they made it up and issued Demand Notes. Demand Notes were printed on orange paper with purple ink which is why they were nicknamed Greenbacks.

After a bunch of years, a bunch of dollars, and a bunch of wars, the Bretton Woods (which did not go to Dunsinane Hill – serious extra points for getting that one) Accord linked most currencies to the dollar. This system did not last forever. Bretton Woods also created the International Monetary Fund (IMF) which changed its name but pretty much has lasted forever.

Today, like the currency of most nations, the dollar is fiat money (not backed by any physical asset [and by “physical asset” economists generally mean gold]). You can use it to buy other kinds of cars besides Fiats.

More importantly, you can use money to buy things like food and shoes.

Banks are a good place to keep money, but that is a subject for another day.

Love, Mom

Athena is the Goddess of War (but you knew that).

According to The Bard (by which I mean Shakespeare) Macbeth will be safe until Great Birnam Wood comes to Dunsinane Hill.

Dear Kid,

I still haven’t been able to bring myself to research the weird and heebie-jeebie-inducing facts I found about spiders, but I have recovered sufficiently to dive into arachnid mythology (which of course, is completely, 100% true).

Once upon a time (as all the best stories begin), there was a girl (again, excellent story beginning) named Arachne. She was a normal human except for 2 things: her extraordinary weaving ability and her lack of humility.

Do you know who the goddess of weaving is/was? Athena. Do remember what else Athena is known for? Wisdom, strategy, and war. In other words, smart and deadly. Not exactly the ideal person to anger.

Arachne, who had not watched enough reality TV to know what happens when you go up against the gods, boasted that her skill at weaving was better than anyone’s–including Athena. (OK, add “dumb” to the things Arachne is known for.)

Athena, unsurprisingly, was not amused. Not in the least.

She disguised herself as an old woman (HINT: never challenge old women–it ends badly every single time) and goes to Have A Word with Arachne. Arachne, not having read the above hint, says Athena would lose a weaving contest between the two of them. This does not sit well with Athena, who does more than raise an eyebrow–she accepts the challenge. (Why she didn’t smite her then and there, I don’t know. I can only assume it’s because that would be a bad ending to the story. Or maybe she was over her smite quota.)

They begin to weave. CNBC covers the event live which is almost (but not quite) as boring as watching golf.

Athena weaves a story about gods punishing the mortals for thinking they’re as good as the gods. Arachne weaves a story about gods misleading and abusing mortals (which happened more than you might think but was not one of the better themes to have chosen).

Athena, who does not have an overabundance of patience or a rollicking sense of humor, rips Arachne’s work to little bitty (or possibly itsy bitsy) pieces. Arachne, not one for apologizing, hangs herself. Athena brings her back to life but turns her into a spider and says she (and all her spider-y descendants) have to weave forever. It’s not obvious to me this is an improvement for Arachne.

And that, O Best Beloved, is why spiders are called arachnids.

Wishing you a cobweb-free day.

Love, Mom