When I was down in Mexico people used to call out, "Hey, Zeus!" and I thought it was pretty cool that they were acquainted with Greek mythology, not to mention that they thought I was Olympian material. But then came the day when they crowned my head with thorns and nailed my hands and feet to a cross and then it dawned on me they had gotten me mixed up with Jesus. Boy, was my face red. Good thing I had three days to kill.