-The Legend of Conanachus-
Many have marveled over the years about the true meaning of Stonehenge. Some suggest to a religious symbol, others claim it to be an astronomical guide. All are reasonable explanations, but in Greece, it is believed to have served a slightly different purpose…
It is said that Conanachus, god of the talk show world, held his public interviews here, in Stonehenge. No one knows for certain why he chose this specific field, but it is speculated that because it was so spacious and empty, it offered the best lighting for his audience to see his radiant beauty up close.
But this god hadn't always been so popular. When he was a young lad, he often wandered the streets of Mount Olympus in search of something greater than what he had already been given. He had not yet a purpose in life, for the Greek people had literally run out of things to have gods for. He often felt distraught over it, knowing that he would never be anything other than some mere immortal.
One day, after he had finished his every day chore of commanding the servants to clear the table after dinner, Zeus, his father, approached him silently. The boy looked up at him hopefully.
"Son," Zeus said. "I have good news."
Conanachus's eyes brightened. "They need me, Father? The mortals have chosen me as one of their gods?"
His father put his hand on his son's shoulder and shook his head. "No. I just saved a bunch of money on my chariot insurance by switching to Greco. But that's beside the point…Conanachus, you've been moping around this mountain for too many years. You're almost a young god now. And frankly, it's beginning to worry your mother. I feel it is time for you to maybe…find something useful to do with your time."
"Like what, Father?" Young Conanachus asked.
His father shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe you should consider mingling with the mortals for a few years."
"But, I have never been to earth."
"That's all right. I will guide you as best I can."
Soon after, Conanachus found himself standing amongst the mortals on a busy, shop-lined street. All he carried with him is a bag of his few possessions and small pouch full of gold. The townspeople watch him curiously, never having this stranger in their village before.
It didn't take him very long to blend in. He found himself a nice little house on the outskirts of the village and had a well paying job working for Burger Caesar. He became well liked around the city and had many friends. But, still, he told no one of his roots. Not even that he was a god.
A couple of years passed by, and he had managed to save up enough money to start his own business. He heard of a man downtown selling his shop and quickly met with him to make an offer on the building. After months and months of hard work, the Conanachus Outlet was finally opened. The young god was very proud of his store and it drew in many costumers. He sold olive oils, oil based hair products, togas and a variety of vases. Business was slow for a while, but when word got out how wonderful his business was, the costumers came flocking in. He became so successful, he was able to open outlets all around the country.
But, he was not happy. Riches he had, but love he did not. Sure, hundreds of women flocked to him because he was strikingly gorgeous and well, needless to say, rich, but he didn't take a liking to any of them. That was, until Kalonice.
It was a late evening and he was getting ready to close up when she came in.
"Sorry, we're closed." He muttered, flipping through the rumpled pages of the Ithaca Times. She bowed her head gently and spoke in a sweet, gentle voice.
"I only have but one thing to buy. Tomorrow is my father's birthday and I haven't had time to buy him his gift all week," she said.
Something about her voice interested him. It was the most beautiful voice he had ever heard. And when they're eyes met, his belly flopped to the floor. Right away he knew this was the woman for him. She was beautiful and kind and something about her presence was entrancing.
"What are you going to buy him?" Conanachus asked, trying to play it cool.
She chuckled. "He is losing his hair. I thought maybe he'd appreciate some Cona-Locks." And then she paused. "Oh my, you're Conanachus!"
They talked for hours that night, and when it began to get really dark, he walked her home. It was the beginning of a love that would last forever.
Conanachus and Kalonice were married three months later, and they settled themselves into his little cottage outside of the city. They were a happy couple for many years. They had five children and it wasn't until their first was three years of age that Kalonice learned that her husband was the son of Zeus. At first she was shocked, then shock grew into anger, which grew into confusion.
"Why did you not tell me, darling?" She asked.
"I was embarrassed. I'm not a god really. I'm not a god of anything."
His wife blinked, confused.
"You see by time I was born," he explained. "Everything else in the world already had a god. I mean, everything, even toe fungus!" And then he shook his head. "I'm not meant to be great."
"Of course you are!" When she saw he didn't believe her, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Create something."
"Create something. You know like an invention. You could make up something."
She shrugged. "I don't know. You like talking to people. Maybe you could…make it an event."
"Yes. That would be something. I'm certain your father would allow that to you."
Conanachus decided to look further into his wife's idea. Perhaps, he thought, I could find an empty building, maybe a clearing in a nearby wood to hold these interviews. He searched all around Greece, but found nothing.
Amid his search, his wife got news that one of her uncles in England had passed away a few weeks ago. He had left her all of his belongings, including his land.
"Conanachus," Kalonice said one night at the dinner table. "I've just gotten word that my uncle has passed away. He lived in England, you know."
Her husband nodded.
"He left me his land. Perhaps you might, you know, want to check it out. Maybe you could try to journey up there to see if you might like it. For your interviews."
Conanachus thought about this for many days. He debated to himself that it wouldn't hurt to look, but goodness, it was an awful long way to go. Finally, he decided to check it out.
He was gone for many months journeying across what is now known as Europe. The expedition tired him, but he pressed on in hopes of finding his dream studio. And, when he finally arrived, he wept in joy at the beautiful site. It was spacious and bright when the sun was out. He knew the gods had brought him here for a reason so quickly, he began work on it.
He figured his audience might like some shade when sitting at his show, so he found it appropriate to build wide pillars out of rock to block the sun from burning their skin. He had super human strength, because he was a god, and it took him only a few months to complete these structures. Many came from the city to marvel this wonderful creation and, knowing it would be a success, Conanachus wrote his wife, asking her to come with their children, because this would be their new home.
His first guest was the Greek storyteller, Homer, who, as we already know, enjoyed telling stories and was open to this new style of telling it. Hundreds flocked to see this celebrity and listen to what he had to say. And, after coming to this presentation, they found themselves looking forward to the next night's show.
It wasn't until just after the fourth show that Zeus appeared before his son, dressed in beggar's clothes as to not attract attention to himself. Conanachus was just leaving the studio when they met up, and was very surprised to see him.
"Father!" Conanachus exclaimed, pulling his father into an embrace. "It has been so long."
Zeus nodded. "It has my son. You have done a fine job here."
"Thank you, Father! I've worked very hard!"
"So I've noticed. I've recorded your shows on my O-VO. It's this new system they've installed in the palace. You can record your favorite earth scenes automatically."
"Yeah," Zeus crossed his arms. "And you know what I think son."
"What's that Father?"
"You'll make a fine god."
"God? Of what?"
He chuckled. "Son, you do not know?"
"Know what, sir?"
"You've been named the god of the talk shows."
Conanachus was so overwhelmed, he wept. Not only was it an important day in his life, but also in future generations as well. For had Conanachus not been willing to give up everything to try something, new there would be no Stonehenge, and certainly no talk shows.