Hello, Χαίρετε, and welcome to Epic Greek History Episode 19, Nothing Queer About It: Same-Sex Relationships in Ancient Greece. I’m Scott Emmons.

 This is the first episode I’ve had to open with a disclaimer. In case it’s not already clear from the title, I’m going to be talking about a topic that’s appropriate for mature audiences. None of it is meant to be offensive or even titillating, but there will be some explicit talk about specific sexual acts. So if you have young children, you might want to put your headphones on or listen at a time when they’re not around to hear. Also, I’ll be talking mainly about relationships between adult men and adolescents. So if you’ve experienced some trauma from sexual abuse at an early age and think you might be triggered, it might be best to skip this episode. In short, listener discretion is advised.

 With that out of the way, I’d like to start by quoting the opening paragraph from one of the foundational books on this subject, Greek Homosexuality by K.J. Dover. Quote:

 Greek culture differed from ours in its readiness to recognize the alternation of homosexual and heterosexual preferences in the same individual, its implicit denial that such alternation or coexistence created peculiar problems for the individual or for society, its sympathetic response to the open expression of homosexual desire in words and behavior, and its taste for the uninhibited treatment of homosexual subjects in literature and the visual arts. Unquote

 Dover’s remarks are a good reminder that when we approach this subject, we need to get beyond some of the superficial observations that get thrown around. Things like “Being gay was widely accepted” or that Plato or some other famous person was gay. It’s important to understand that ancient Greece was a very different culture from ours. It left a legacy that still profoundly influences us, but if we could go back in time and visit classical Athens, it would seem almost like an alien world. So it can be misleading when we use modern labels like “gay or “straight.” People just didn’t identify themselves that way.

 Now, that’s not to say that certain individuals didn’t have a strong natural pull in one direction or the other. I’m sure there were some ancient Greeks who were sexually aroused by one gender to the exclusion of the other. But that wasn’t considered a defining part of who they were. Some of my friends think I’m weird because I don’t like chocolate ice cream. Given the choice, I’d rather just have vanilla. But there are no parades I can march in to show my vanilla-lover’s pride, because nobody really cares. It’s just one character trait among many. To the extent that they acknowledged what we call sexual orientation, I think that’s the way they saw it — as one character trait that didn’t mean all that much.

 Well, if that were all there was to it, we could just say a lot of people went both ways and let it go at that. But it’s a lot more interesting. The main topic of this episode is not so much homosexuality as we understand it, but a particular kind of same-sex relationship with its own rules for courtship, behavior, and sexual practices. It’s something like a standard template for a type of relationship that’s often been called “Greek love.”  We’ve gotten a glimpse of it in the episode on the poet Theognis of Megara and also in the one on Sparta. But most of our detailed information about it comes from Athenian writers in the classical period. Customs could vary widely from city to city, so it’s good to keep in mind that when we talk about so-called Greek love, we’re looking at it mainly through an Athenian lens.

So what does a Greek same-sex relationship look like? The ideal — that is, what’s considered normal and expected — is a relationship between a fully grown man and one who’s just reaching adulthood. There’s a popular misconception that the Greeks sanctioned sex with much younger boys. Part of the problem is that ancient authors often used the Greek word “pais,” which literally means “child” or “boy,” for the younger member. But that word is used informally for a variety of age ranges. To make matters worse, the authors use the word “paiderastes” for the senior member, and that’s come over into English as “pederast.” But the proper age for a young man to enter into a sexual relationship of this kind was considered to be when he started to grow a beard. And that generally meant about the age of 18. 

 You may be thinking, “Hey, I know 15-year-olds with full beards,” but puberty kicked in at a considerably later age than it does today. A lot of that, I’m sure, has to do with diet and nutrition — and probably the growth hormones that get pumped into so much of our food today. Long story short, a young man of roughly 18 to 20 would be considered old enough to accept an older lover. Before that age, Greek parents — especially those of the upper class — were very protective of their sons. They would typically have a “pedagogue,” a slave who would accompany the boy to school or wherever he went and keep him from getting into trouble. So if some skeevy older guy wanted to put moves on a vulnerable young boy, the pedagogue would be there to put a stop to it.

 So younger boys were at least theoretically off limits, but they could still be objects of sexual desire before they were of age. It strikes me as a little like the creepy way Hollywood child stars become sexualized as soon as they get into their teen years. So teen boys and young adults had their admirers. And the quintessential place to do their admiring was the gymnasium. The word “gymnasium” comes from the Greek word “gymnos,” which means “naked.” It’s literally the “naked place” where men did their workouts in the nude. So if you wanted to see athletic young men stripped down, running and wrestling with each other, and anointing their bodies with oil, that was the place for it. 

 A few of Plato’s philosophical dialogues give us a pretty clear picture of how sexually charged the gymnasium could be. In case you’re not familiar with Plato’s works, he almost always used his mentor Socrates as the main character. His dialogue titled Lysis starts with Socrates talking to a young man named Hippothales, who’s head-over-heels in love with the title character, Lysis. Socrates offers to go with him to a nearby gymnasium and talk with Lysis, essentially to show Hippothales how to talk to him and get him to like him. Lysis is very young and he’s there under the protection of his pedagogue. Plato even mentions a special circumstance that allows Socrates to talk to him in the first place. Normally, the under-18 boys are kept separate from the grown men in the gymnasium. But it happens to be a festival day devoted to the god Hermes, when young adolescents and grown men are allowed to mingle. So Lysis is in that very protected age group, but he’s still the object of Hippothales’ desire.

 In another dialogue, Charmides, we see Socrates himself falling under the spell of a young man who’s just coming of age. Socrates has just returned to Athens after serving in a long military campaign. So he’s chatting with his friend Critias in a gymnasium (where else?), and he asks him, “Who are the good-looking guys these days?” Critias says, “Well, you remember my young cousin Charmides? He got hot while you were away!” Just then, an advance guard of Charmides’ admirers comes in, followed by Charmides himself, then even more admirers. He’s clearly the belle of the ball. Socrates is struck dumb by how handsome he is, and Critias says, “If you think his face is good, wait till you see him naked!” 

 So they cook up an excuse to have Charmides come over and talk to Socrates. Here again, they’re careful to note that there’s nothing inappropriate going on. Charmides is evidently old enough not to need a pedagogue, but Socrates mentions that even if he were younger, Critias would be there as his older cousin to make sure everything was above board. Now, this being a Platonic dialogue, Socrates’ real goal is to find out if the young man’s soul is as beautiful as his body. But he’s still not immune to his physical charm. Socrates describes his reaction when Charmides comes and sits next to him. As translated by Benjamin Jowett, quote:

 My former bold belief in my powers of conversing naturally with him had vanished… And at that moment, my good friend, I caught a sight of the inwards of his garment, and took the flame. Then I could no longer contain myself. I thought how well Cydias understood the nature of love, when in speaking of a fair youth, he warns someone ‘not to bring the fawn in the sight of the lion to be devoured by him,’ for I felt that I had been overcome by a sort of wild-beast appetite.” Unquote

 Now, Socrates is always portrayed as having extraordinary self-control, so he’s not going to pursue a sexual relationship with Charmides. But there’s a whole crowd of men around them who’d like to do just that. At this point we can get into the dynamics of courtship and relationships. And these involve a few Greek terms that don’t translate very well into English. So I’m just going to take a moment to define three of those, which I’ll use in the rest of the episode. First, there’s eros. It’s often translated as “love,” but that can be misleading, because “love” has such a range of meanings, from romantic to what we call platonic love, and so on. Eros has a range too, but its core meaning is “desire.” It’s used primarily to refer to erotic love, and of course it’s the root of our word “erotic.” The crucial thing to understand in this context is that eros is a one-way street. We’re not talking about two people falling in love with eac other. The adult man who’s stirred by sexual attraction is called the erastes. He’s the one who feels desire. The object of his desire is called the eromenos. That’s a passive verb form, literally meaning the one who is desired. 

 Now, I can’t speak for any individual young Athenian man’s feelings. For all I know, some of them may have been crushing hard on their erastai. But the ancient Athenian assumption is that the eromenos, the love object, doesn’t feel the same kind of eros, sexual desire. If the relationship is a good one, he’ll feel affection and may be honored to receive the attention of the erastes. He may be eager to please him. But as far as sexual desire is concerned, he’s thought to be the object of it, not to feel it himself.

 In courtship, that puts the erastes in the position of the pursuer. He’s often described as “following” his eromenos, and the language for his behavior sometimes evokes hunting. His goal is to “catch” his love object. Meanwhile, the eromenos is expected to play hard to get, not to be “caught” too easily. If he’s worth it, he’ll make the erastes work to get him. In that way it’s not too different from traditional courtship rituals that still operate today. As we saw with Charmides, a real hunk might have a number of followers vying for his attention, and I would imagine that the family would often encourage their son to choose a lover who could provide good economic or political connections. We’ll see in later episodes that these relationships sometimes played an important part in politics.

 Another interesting aspect of courtship is that it’s very public. The erastes isn’t writing secret love notes and hiding his true feelings. He’s right out there, publicly declaring his passion. One common way of doing that is to write the love-object’s name in public places. There’s a standard formula in Greek graffiti, consisting of a name followed by the adjective “kalos,” meaning “beautiful.” So you might declare your devotion to a certain young man by writing, “Demokritos kalos,” “Democritus is beautiful,” or maybe more accurately, “Democritus is hot!” There’s a passage in Plato’s Symposium where a character named Pausanias remarks on the public nature of courtship in Athens. As translated by Michael Joyce, quote:

 Take for example our maxim that it is better to love openly than in secret, especially when the object of one’s passion is eminent in nobility and virtue, and even if his personal appearance should lack the same distinction. And think how we all love to cheer the lover on, without the least idea that he is doing anything unworthy, and how we see honor in his success and shame in his defeat. Unquote

 A little later in the same speech, Pausanias describes the typical behavior of an erastes — declaring his need with entreaties, making vows, and sleeping on doorsteps. He’s so obsessed, he’s actually camping out at the door of his beloved’s house. The erastes projects the image of someone completely besotted with his eromenos. In this passage and many others, he’s described as behaving like a slave, because he’s so much under the power of eros.

 Well, by now it’s probably clear that this kind of courtship is an upper-class phenomenon. Nobody who runs a family farm or a foundry or a tannery has time to hang out in the gymnasium all day, sleep on doorsteps, and whatnot. But working-class men can still admire these young hunks, if only from afar. A lot of Athenian vase paintings include those “kalos” inscriptions declaring that such-and-such a youth is hot. Sometimes several painters will identify themselves as admirers of one individual. For example, there’s a collection of painted pots known as the Leagros group, because the painters all proclaimed their devotion to Leagros. James Davidson observes in his book The Greeks and Greek Love, quote: “An extraordinary feature of the commercial workshops of the Ceramicus c.540-460 BC is that they seem to have been organized as if they were rival fan clubs, groups of erastai devoted to particular boys.” Unquote. These beautiful youths effectively had celebrity status. It sounds a lot like the way people develop celebrity crushes today. We may fall in love with, say, Sydney Sweeney or Timothée Chalamet, even though we’ll most likely never meet them and they have no idea who we are. And as we saw with Charmides in Plato’s dialogue, a popular youth would have not only a fan club, but an actual entourage.

 Vase paintings help fill in some details about how an erastes pursues his love object. A lot of paintings show a man offering a gift to a youth. Two of the most common love gifts are a rooster and a hare — as in “h-a-r-e.” Those seem to have been the ancient Athenian equivalents of flowers and candy. Young men are shown sometimes accepting the gifts and sometimes rejecting them. 

 Vase paintings sometimes depict courtship in a much more explicit way than the authors do. I should mention that most of the erotic paintings are from the 6th to the mid 5th century, while the authors I’m discussing are a bit later, in the late 5th and the 4th centuries, so we have to allow for some possible cultural shifts over time.  In any case, a standard type of scene shows a man with one hand touching a nude youth’s face while with the other hand he reaches for his genitals. Sometimes the youth resists, usually by grabbing the man’s wrist, other times he doesn’t put up a fight. Now, the problem with Greek vase painting is that you often can’t tell if it’s supposed to depict reality or something imaginary. There’s a whole range of scholarly views about how much real-life behavior these scenes represent. Personally, I find it hard to believe that the average erastes would make an initial pass at a young guy by trying to grab his junk. It makes more sense to me that it’s a symbolic representation, that the hand touching the face represents the outward show of courtship while the other hand shows what the pursuer is really after. But don’t take that as fact, it’s just my impression.

 Well, I’ve spent a good deal of time on courtship, so now we face a big question. What happens after the erastes “catches” his eromenos? To put it bluntly, what kinds of sexual acts are we talking about? Authors like Plato and Xenophon tend to be very coy and to talk about sex in euphemisms. But one thing that comes out very clearly is the perception that sexual pleasure, just like desire, is all on one side. The erastes experiences physical pleasure. The eromenos doesn’t. Xenophon states that very directly in his own Symposium dialogue. In the translation by O.J. Todd, quote:

 For a youth does not share in the pleasure of the intercourse as a woman does, but looks on, sober, at another in love’s intoxication. Unquote.

 It’s very different from our ideas about sex as a shared experience where ideally both partners feel intense pleasure and satisfaction. In so-called Greek love, there’s an active partner, the erastes, and a passive partner, the eromenos. The erastes does sex; the eromenos has sex done to him. If that’s the case, what is the eromenos supposed to get out it? As I mentioned earlier, he’s assumed to feel affection, to feel honored by the older man’s attention. And that makes him willing to do quote-unquote “favors” for the erastes.

 So what exactly are these favors? We’re now at the point where, if you do have young children, you’ll either want to make sure they’re out of earshot or be prepared to answer a lot of questions. There’s a lot of debate about this, because most literary sources are so coy and vase paintings can be so hard to interpret. But as far as I can tell, the basic assumption seems to be that what the erastes wants in terms of pure animal desire is anal intercourse. That is, he wants to be the active partner who penetrates his eromenos. But here’s where things get really tricky, because now there’s an issue with the young man’s honor. Ancient Greeks didn’t obsess about sexual orientation the way we do, but they did obsess about behaving appropriately as a man. Being penetrated meant taking on a woman’s role in intercourse, so in that sense it was an indignity. It was practically unthinkable for an adult citizen to submit to being penetrated. I can’t back this up, but my impression is that for a youth it was a gray area — something you certainly wouldn’t talk about openly but that you might agree to in private. 

 So there was a strong taboo associated with anal intercourse, but there was also a loophole. A good many of those archaic Athenian vases show a type of frottage that some call “intercrural” intercourse, which is a coinage from Latin meaning “between the thighs.” So the erastes thrusts his penis between the youth’s thighs until he climaxes. Presumably, that’s a way to have intercourse without putting the eromenos in that shameful position. I’m reminded of the way some couples who consider it important to preserve virginity until marriage get around it by doing, quote, “everything but.” It also seems significant that in vase paintings, depictions of anal intercourse normally show the passive partner bending over, while “between-the-thighs” intercourse is shown with the partners both standing, face-to-face. So that practice seems to be a way for the erastes to satisfy his sexual urge while treating the eromenos with respect.

 Let’s face it, just about every culture is messed up about sex in some way. And I would say that the biggest pain point for the ancient Athenians was the issue of a man being the passive party in anal sex. It ties in closely with those ideas about who receives pleasure. A male who eagerly submits to penetration because he enjoys it is behaving like a woman — or like a prostitute. One of the major literary sources for Athenian attitudes toward homosexual practices is a lawcourt speech by the 4th century orator Aeschines. He’s prosecuting a man named Timarchus under a law that says a citizen can’t hold office if he’s ever been a prostitute. The prosecutor goes out of his way to say he’s not opposed to the whole erastes-eromenos relationship. He says he himself has followed young men, written them love poems, and gotten into fights with rivals. But the accused man, Timarchus, has allegedly taken the passive role for his own gain. And that’s over the line. As K.J. Dover sums it up, quote: “To choose to be treated as an object at the disposal of another citizen was to resign one’s own standing as a citizen.” Unquote

 Athenian comedy uses that anxiety about men in the passive role for comic effect. Most of the plays we have are from Aristophanes, who wrote in the late 5th and early 4th century BCE. His comedy is very coarse, and part of its whole purpose is to take public figures down a peg. It’s full of personal insults, which are always highly exaggerated. And as you might expect, one of the most common insults is effeminacy — not in the sense that a man has feminine mannerisms, but that he willingly takes it in the butt! Aristophanes uses a word that’s virtually untranslatable into English, ευρύπρωκτος. The closest I can come is “wide-anused.” Meaning that the guy has submitted to anal penetration so often that the opening has become stretched out wide. In one over-the-top scene in his play “The Clouds,” two characters are debating, and one of them asks about different groups of Athenians. He asks, “What group do the orators come from?” From the ευρύπρωκτοι. How about the tragedians? Them too. And the craftsmen? Ευρύπρωκτοι. Yes, and just look out at the audience. Wow, most of them are ευρύπρωκτοι! This guy, and this guy, and this guy… Obviously, this is an extreme exaggeration, but Greek comedy shows that one of the worst things you could say about a man was that he took the receiving role in anal sex.

 At the opposite extreme, we can look at this kind of eros through the lens of philosophy. I’ve already cited Plato for examples of men admiring beautiful youths in the gymnasium and so on, but he translates that into a spiritual kind of eros that’s elevated far above the physical. The classic text for this is his Symposium. The premise is that every guest at this dinner party is asked to give a speech in praise of Eros. So you get different takes on the subject, until you get to Socrates’ speech, which is of course the one that delivers Plato’s message. Socrates claims to have heard this from a wise woman named Diotima. And the revealed truth is that there are different levels of Eros. There’s a basic animal attraction that’s necessary for procreation. Eros is defined as a longing for beauty and for immortality. All animals, including humans, feel desire for beautiful members of the opposite sex, and since our bodies are not immortal, procreation is the closest we can get.

 So Socrates, quoting Diotima, says men who stay at the level of physical procreation are drawn to women, so they’ll have families and produce a new generation. But there’s also a kind of procreation of the spirit, that wants to beget wisdom, justice, and all the higher virtues. At this point, we’re getting to one of the core principles of Plato’s philosophy. He taught that there were eternal, unchanging truths above and beyond what we experience in the physical world. I think it’s helpful here to understand that Plato had a strong grounding in mathematics. And if you think in geometrical terms of, say, a triangle, we see them all the time in architecture and so forth, but any triangle that exists in our world is imperfect. The sides aren’t perfectly straight, and the angles will be off by fractions of degrees. So in a sense, there are no real triangles in our experience, there are only shapes that have the qualities of a triangle, which only the mind can grasp. The same applies to high concepts like beauty, justice, and so on.

 Well, to get back to Eros… A man’s attraction to a beautiful body — and now we’re talking specifically about a male body — is a stepping stone to grasping the true, unchanging idea of beauty. He falls in love with the physical beauty of one young man, and then he notices how much that individual body is like that of another, and then comes to see that all these attractive young men share that quality of beauty. And when he starts to understand true beauty, he realizes that the beauty of the soul goes way beyond that of the body. At that point he can even see beauty in those who aren’t physically perfect — people like Socrates, for example, who was notoriously not good-looking. Socrates-slash-Diotima sums it up as follows, again in the Michael Joyce translation. Quote:

 And so, when his prescribed devotion to boyish beauties has carried our candidate so far that the universal beauty dawns upon his inward sight, he is almost within reach of the final revelation. And this is the way, the only way, he must approach, or be led toward, the sanctuary of Love. Starting from individual beauties, the quest for the universal beauty must find him ever mounting the heavenly ladder, stepping from rung to rung — that is, from one to two, and from two to every lovely body, from bodily beauty to the beauty of institutions, from institutions to learning, and from learning in general to the special lore that pertains to nothing but the beautiful itself — until at last he comes to know what beauty is. Unquote

 I don’t know what I can add to that. Plato’s a tough act to follow. But on a side note, the Symposium also includes one of the few ancient Greek references to people who are innately drawn to one sex or the other. One of the party guests is Aristophanes, the comic playwright, and before Socrates takes his turn, he gives an appropriately comic speech. He tells a crazy story that humans were originally created as dual creatures, sort of like conjoined twins joined at the back, so they had faces and all the other body parts facing away from each other. Some of them were double males, some were double females, and some were male and female. The gods then split them all apart, and from that time on, their desire has been to reunite with their other half. So the ones who started as double males and double females were drawn to their own sex, but those who had originally been male and female were drawn to the opposite sex. But it’s interesting that when he talks about the men who naturally desire males because of that, he still describes the relationship as an older erastes and a younger eromenos. And in one of Aristophanes’ actual plays, the Frogs, there’s a passage that reflects the same sense of what’s normal and right. The hero Heracles, who’s usually portrayed as kind of a glutton in comedy, says he has a powerful desire. Another character asks, “For a woman?” He says no. “For a boy, then?” No. “For a grown man?” And Heracles’ answer is a non-verbal utterance, something like “Yikes!” There always seems to be the assumption that the proper kind of homosexual desire in an adult man is for a young man just reaching adulthood.

 Well, as I said at the beginning, I’ve been focusing mainly on the Athenian paradigm of same-sex relationships between men. Before closing, I just want to look briefly at two other forms that homosexual eros could take. In some places more than others, it played an important role in the military. The anxiety we’ve had in the U.S. over whether gay people should serve in the military would have struck the ancient Greeks as ludicrous. I touched on this in the episode on Sparta. At a certain point in a Spartan boy’s development and military training, it was considered right and proper that he enter into a relationship with one of the twenty-something men who still lived in the barracks. That was one way of promoting cohesion in the ranks, and there was a sense that both members of the couple would be driven to perform well in training or in battle so as to impress their lover. There were times and places where that became an official military policy. In the fourth century BCE, Thebes developed an elite force called the Sacred Band, consisting of 300 men organized as 150 couples, erastai and eromenoi. And that force played a crucial role in the battle of Leuctra, which stunned the Greek world by finally breaking the power of Sparta.

 The other subject, of course, is erotic relationships between women. For those we have a lot less information, for the simple reason that almost all our literary sources are male authors, who didn’t attach a lot of importance to women’s personal lives. But we do have some indications that women formed couples along similar lines to the men. In one short line in Plutarch’s biography of Lycurgus, the Spartan lawgiver, he mentions that young women took good and noble women as lovers. The early Spartan poet Alcman, in his lyrics for competing choruses of girls, often uses erotic language when he has one girl describe the effect another girl’s beauty has on her. 

 And of course we have love lyrics from Sappho of Lesbos, whose name became synonymous with homoerotic love between women. That’s an oversimplification, because her work includes poetry addressed to individuals of both sexes. But in those addressed to women, her language often mirrors the way male erastai address their eromenoi. A late Roman author compared her relationship with young women to that of Socrates with young men. In one of her most famous poems, she calls on Aphrodite to help her win the affection of a young girl, and she recalls the words the goddess said to her on a similar occasion. As translated by Richmond Lattimore, quote:

Who is it, Sappho, that hurt you?

Though she now escape you, she soon will follow;

Though she take not gifts from you, she will give them.

Though she love not, yet she will surely love you, 

even unwilling. Unquote

 The language of following and fleeing and of offering gifts are typical of the erastes-eromenos relationship, and so is line, “Who is it that hurt you?” In poetry, a male erastes often talks about being wronged or hurt by the eromenos who resists his advances. On the other hand, Sappho’s poem suggests that the passion is not as one-sided as in the male relationships. Aphrodite tells her that the girl may flee from her now, but later she’ll come after Sappho. You’d never see a male eromenos chasing after an older man and offering him gifts. Sappho seems to have a more mutual experience of eros in mind.

 Well, as so often happens, I’ve gotten to the end of the episode and I keep thinking of things I’ve left out. But I hope that will provide a solid introduction, and if you want to explore the topic further, I’ve listed some good sources in the show notes and on Substack. Before I close, though, I want to comment on a recent event that disturbs me as both a former academic and just as someone with an interest in the ancient world. At Texas A&M University, administrators told Professor Martin Peterson that he couldn’t use Plato’s Symposium in his introductory philosophy course because it violated the university’s new rules regarding race and gender ideology. I exchanged emails with Professor Peterson, who confirmed that he’d been prohibited from teaching the Symposium. He added that according to the university’s policy, some instructors can teach Plato, including the Symposium, as long as they don’t discuss what Plato has to say about same-sex relationships. Which to me is like saying you can discuss “Breaking Bad” as long as you don’t ever mention drugs. Professor Peterson has replaced the unit on Plato with lectures on free speech and academic freedom. Good for him. It’s one thing to say that faculty can’t promote certain ideologies in the classroom. But if universities can’t allow faculty to teach one of the foundational works of western philosophy, we are entering a new dark age. There will always be authorities who will want to restrict our access to knowledge. To that I say, if a book is banned, read the crap out of it!

 That concludes Episode 19. Whether you’re straight, gay, both or neither, I hope you’ve found it enlightening. I welcome your comments by email at scott@epicgreekhistory.com or on Facebook or Instagram. I’m Scott Emmons. The music for my theme song was composed and recorded by Parry Gripp. My logo and other artwork are by Chris Harding. Until next time, εὐτυχεῖτε! Be well.