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<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11458" rel="attachment wp-att-11458"><img class="alignleft size-medium wp-image-11458" title="IMG00289-20121012-1858" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/IMG00289-20121012-1858-300x225.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a>

When was the last time you attended a Greek Festival?  Opa!

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I <em>think</em> the last time for me was when I was in high school.  It was in Houston, and I <em>think</em> it was a smallish Greek Festival in a parking lot of a local Greek Orthodox church.

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Sorry for the hazy recollection, but my memory (or lack thereof) scares me.  (Help me out here, sis and Carolyn!  I'm sure one of you were with me circa 1986!)

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I've <em>heard</em> of the Greek Festival here in Phoenix for years, but I had never been.

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This year, I couldn't escape the advertising.  Everywhere I looked or listened, it was "Greek Festival".

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Oddly, most of the sightings were at work.  There was a never-ending supply of Greek Fest Flyers in the small coffee nook.  There were full-colored Greek Fest pullouts from the<em> Arizona Republic</em> in the lunchroom.  I racked my brain trying to remember if I worked with any Papadopouloses or Onassises, but I didn't <em>think</em> so.

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<span style="font-size: medium; color: #0000ff;"><strong>Where was all this Greek Fest propaganda coming from???</strong></span>

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I think I even heard a Greek Fest commercial on the radio.  I <em>think</em>.

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Remind me to take more fish oil.

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I needed to check out this Greek Festival to see what all the fuss was about.  Opa!

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I convinced The Buckeye Who Prefers to Remain Anonymous to escort me.  I envisioned us walking up to a smallish parking lot, snarfing a bit of hummus and falafel, and then wondering what to do with the rest of the evening.

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This was before the shuttle bus pulled up to the church with a sprawling campus that resembled either a small liberal arts college or a Kennedy compound.

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(You would have thought I would have caught a clue about the size of this festival when we boarded a shuttle bus.  Sadly, I did not.)

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(You would have also thought that a fully occupied bus heading to a Greek Festival would be full of rowdy festival goers shouting "Opa!"s, but yours truly was the only one in The Greek Fest spirit!  Even The Buckeye refused to cooperate.)

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As we deboarded the  shuttle bus, we noted swarms of people crossing an extremely largish parking lot to get to both indoor and outdoor festivities.    The indoor festivities contained the food and shopping, so it was logical that we head there first.

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[caption id="attachment_11454" align="alignnone" width="300"]<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11454" rel="attachment wp-att-11454"><img class="wp-image-11454 " title="IMG00287-20121012-1856" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/IMG00287-20121012-1856-300x225.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a> Bread on the circular table. All desserts on the long rectangular table. Opa![/caption]

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[caption id="attachment_11463" align="alignnone" width="300"]<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11463" rel="attachment wp-att-11463"><img class="size-medium wp-image-11463 " title="IMG00291-20121012-1932" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/IMG00291-20121012-1932-300x225.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a> Hummus, no falafel, spanokopita, homemade pitas that The Buckeye had to hunt down and beg for (Stacy's pita chips are neither acceptable nor authentic -- Opa!), outrageously delish potatoes, chicken[/caption]

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The Buckeye's Hands do not remain anonymous.  Because this was too quirky-funny to not share.  He cut my meat for me.  I ribbed him.  We laughed.  Opa!

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And since I was now 3, I contemplated this:

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<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11464" rel="attachment wp-att-11464"><img class="wp-image-11464 alignnone" title="IMG00292-20121012-2006" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/IMG00292-20121012-2006-300x225.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a>

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But then I remembered <strong><a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/2011/03/14/day-167-tiggers-are-not-the-only-one-who-are-bouncy-flouncy-trouncy-pouncy/" target="_blank">that I had been there done that.</a>  </strong>

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With The Buckeye's college roomie's fiancee (now wife at the time of this writing) no less!  (Like you really care.  Thank you for humoring me in my game of Six Degrees of Bouncy House Separation.  Opa!)

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<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11459" rel="attachment wp-att-11459"><img class="size-medium wp-image-11459 alignnone" title="IMG00293-20121012-2025" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/IMG00293-20121012-2025-300x225.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a><a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11460" rel="attachment wp-att-11460"><img class="size-medium wp-image-11460 alignnone" title="IMG00295-20121012-2028" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/IMG00295-20121012-2028-300x225.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a>

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I wasn't kidding about the shopping.  There was a full blown bazaar!

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Purses!  Jewelry!  Belly Dancing costumes!  Pillow cases!
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[caption id="attachment_11462" align="alignnone" width="300"]<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/?attachment_id=11462" rel="attachment wp-att-11462"><img class="size-medium wp-image-11462 " title="IMG00296-20121012-2032" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/IMG00296-20121012-2032-300x225.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a> If I had realized how dirty that pillowcase was as I did tonight when uploading this photo, I would have never touched it. Very soft though. 1500 thread count or something like that. Opa![/caption]

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I asked the blond pillow salesman if he were Greek.  He looked at me as if I had sprouted 3 heads.  (I'm trying to <em>think</em> of a Greek mythological creature with 3 heads, but I'm too tired.  It has nothing to do with my memory.  Honestly.)

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I reminded the blond pillow salesman that we were at a Greek Festival.  He blinked approximately 3 times.

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I suggested to the blond pillow salesman that one might assume vendors at a Greek Bazaar might be . . . well . . . Greek!  He blinked 3 more times.  Then a baby wave of comprehension crossed his face.

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Blond pillow salesman chuckled and said that he was not Greek, but Greek Festivals are very good for business.  Opa!

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Of course, there was Greek dancing and music on a mainstage.  It was ginormous.  It was loud.  Would you expect anything less from a Greek Fest on steroids?

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I wanted to worm my way through the crowd and start dancing right along with them.  But The Buckeye is averse to eardrum-shattering music.

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Hmph.

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<strong>I guess The Buckeye didn't blare his Sony Walkman circa 1986, therefore prepping himself for future rock concerts and Greek Fests. </strong>

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'Tis a pity.  He's really missing out.

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Instead, The Buckeye requested tea.

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You know....Greek tea?  To go with the delectable pastries purchased at the World's Longest Dessert Table (pictured somewhere above).

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Don't alarm yourselves if you're confused.  Greek tea doesn't exist.

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We know this because when we approached the Greek Coffee and Baklava Sundae stand and inquired about Greek tea, the vendor looked at us like it was all Greek to him.

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Ba-dum-bum.

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That "joke" really doesn't make any sense because the vendor was in fact Greek, but I am personally enjoying the irony.

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And so, after snarfing a bit of hummus, no falafel, but surprisingly delightful potatoes, etc., The Buckeye suggested that we depart the Greek Festival in search of tea and quiet.

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Which we did.  At one of my favorite Indie coffeeshops.  Where we indulged in those pastries which were Greekilicious!

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Opa!

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When was the last time you got your Greek on at a festival?  Any funny stories, favorite foods, Greek tea sightings?  Please share in the comments section below.

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