I Visit My Friend From Greek Mythology

Sisyphus, before I helped him

I woke up and headed over to my friend Sisyphus’ place, which was on the slope of a mountain. He was pushing a gigantic rock up a steep slope.

“Hi, Sisyphus, how it’s hanging?”

“Oh can’t complain, blog-writing Paul, except maybe for this eternal torment the gods gave me.”

“What did you do, Greek guy?”

“Oh the usual, pissing off the gods. I guess I was too much of a tyrant to my subjects. Zeus, in particular, thought I was overly cruel even.”

“Why are you pushing a big rock up this hill?”

“Oh spreadsheet flashing Paul, it’s my dread punishment. I must take this rock up to the top.”

“Well, that doesn’t seem too hard.”

He sighed. “Matching-socks, Paul. Just before I get the rock to the top,  the muscles in my arms burn with the fires of the underworld. I pause. I slip. My hands fall from the rock. The rock rolls, along with my hopes. all the way down to the bottom. I have to start again.”

I offer him a taco. Sisyphus takes it gratefully and devours it instantly. “Thanks, large-refrigerator-owning, Paul.”

“So, how many times have put your shoulder to the rock?”

“174.383 times.”

“Bummer, that’s a bummer, Sisyphus.”

The Greek tyrant looked so downcast, that I really thought he’d eat lutefisk with a murmur.

My synapses fired. “Say Sisyphus, how about I help you? You’ve been coming ever so close just by yourself. I bet if I helped you, we’d get that darned rock to the top.”

“Mighty man of Poway, I would be most grateful for your assistance.”

And so we pushed the rock to the top.

Sisyphus jumped up and down. “Cowabunga, my punishment is over. I thought I’d be here for all eternity, but now thanks to you, latch-hooking Paul, I’m a free man. Free, I tell you, free!”

The erstwhile rock pusher clasped my shoulders. “Let’s celebrate. I’m taking you to Happy Hera’s Gyro Heaven for some cooling lemonade and tasty gyros.”

“Sounds great, Sisyphus, Do you think this myth will be rewritten showing how I helped you?”

The Greek strongman tilted back his head and laughed so hard that even the Debbie Downers in Sparta heard and smiled just a little bit. “I hope so, cake-baking, Paul, I do hope so.”

And thus, I became ever so famous.