A funny thing happened to me this afternoon. I was in a fancy-pants watch store checking out a few gorgeous timepieces that I will probably never be able to buy. The boutique’s owner was a nice bald guy, just a few years older than me. His voice was thick and raspy, which reminded me of Telly “Kojak” Savalas, the lolly-pop-sucking TV detective of Greek descent.

On the back of the watch store owner’s shiny bald head was a thick grey ponytail. While he was chatting me up, I noticed how the ponytail swung back and forth, back and forth as if it was attached and battery-powered. The intense swinging made it hard for me to focus on the owner’s sales schtick. There was music playing in the background, maybe a local radio station. As a song faded out, I heard David Paich’s familiar piano chords of the intro to “Georgy Porgy.” begin to play.

I just had to interrupt Mister Ponytail to tell him how great the tune is and that I want it played sometime during my funeral – whenever that day arrives. He looked at me and said, “My friend, you should be more focused on living than dying.”

“But I am, I am!” I told him. “I live every day as if it’s my last. And I totally believe in life before death. ”We both laughed and smiled as if we had simultaneously acknowledged that we had seen younger, braver, and more audacious days.

“So what song do you want played for your friends and family when you bite the dust?” I asked Mister Ponytail. “My friend,” he said with his deepest Kojak voice yet, “I have thought about this too. I think first they should play Thunderstruck… and then Highway to Hell.” Again, we laughed, and again, Mister Ponytail’s ponytail shook frantically behind his shiny bald head, extending my laugh a bit longer than his.

With no new watch on my wrist, I left the fancy-pants shop and took Charlotte to Brettos in Plaka, one of Athens’ oldest distilleries, where they produce and serve their ouzo. Once our bottle arrived, our waiter leaned in and whispered that if we didn’t finish it there, we could just take it with us when we left. “Great, but don’t ever try that if you go to Sweden,” I told her, and we all laughed. Needless to say, we left the bottle there as it was empty.