It seems unfair that such a beautiful blossom should be named for an ill-fated drunk demigod, but such is the lot of the Orchid in Greek Mythology.
It seems that a nymph and satyr were doing what nymphs and satyrs do — consensually, mind you— and thus was born a son named Orchis.
We know zero about the earlier life of Orchis but might speculate a bit from the fact that his name is the Greek word for the organ that makes male hormones. One unlucky day, however, Orchis crashes a feast for Dionysus, aka Bacchus, the wine god.
This is never a good idea, dear reader. Even if you get invited, delete the message without clicking. Here’s why:
1. Bacchus being god of wine, his parties have an open bar…
2. The partiers, especially the priestesses, tend to take advantage…
3. And this is fine—it’s a religious rite and everybody walks home afterward—unless the drunken priestesses take a dislike to you…
4. Whereupon they tear you apart, not on social media, but, you know, really…
Finally, we must add that drinking is super especially not a great idea for the son of a satyr. Drunk satyrs tend to do what a certain American candidate for high office boasted of, subsequently dismissing his confession as “locker room talk.”
The problem for Orchis is that he’s not running for office and the object of his lust is not a reality show contestant, but the High Priestess of Bacchus…
And neither the High Priestess nor the ordinary priestesses prove as forgiving as American voters in 2016, and…
Well…
The parents of Orchis, being minor members of the Immortal Club, take the remains to god court and lodge a complaint. And the gods, as often in these circumstances, say dead is dead, but…
”How about we turn him into a flower. Okay?”
And this, says the myth, is why we have Orchids. And why you may want to keep yours away from the wine racks.
