by Gretchen Hanson “Business or pleasure?” My customs agent eyes me up and down and perfunctorily questions the purpose of my journey as he must do a thousand times a day. He is young and could easily be one of the carved marble sculptures on the frieze above the Parthenon. You can tell his interest in my answer is only relevant to his job. I smile sadly, and tell him nothing even close to the truth. “Pleasure.” I smile to…

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