Colour Me…Whatever

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“What’s your favourite colour?”  Apparently, blue is far and away the most common answer.  I don’t think it’s that cut and dried.  It’s the kind of question that I obstinately like to answer in the most vague way possible.  “Plaid,” I’ll say, after thinking for a moment.  Or “All of them.”

“No, really,” I’m told.  “You have to choose.”  I usually just say green, I like green, it looks nice on me, but it’s such a difficult question.  For instance, green is not my favourite shade of lipstick.  Normally, I’m not fond of pink, but I contend that it does have a prominent role in the cosmetics world, and also as one valid answer to the question, “What’s a nice healthy colour for cheeks?”  Certainly not green.  Pinkeye, on the other hand, is very unpleasant, unless you’re an albino rabbit.  Green eyes are quiite striking.

My younger son has very strangely coloured eyes.  They change often with the light and the colours around him.  They are ringed with gold or orange, and are teal, green, or hazel near the centre.  They are beautiful and unique.

Gray is a nice, often overlooked colour. Gray eyes, or eyes that sometimes turn gray are beautiful.  We earn our gray hairs as rites of passage and experience.  My cat Grace is all kinds of beautiful shades of gray.  But I can’t imagine sitting down to an appealing meal of gray food.  If you find gray food in the back of the fridge, that’s never good.

I spent weeks trying to find just the right shade of robin-egg blue to paint my bedroom.  I did find it, and it’s perfect, and I love it in every light and three years later it still makes me happy.

I drive a bright red Chevy Cavalier.  When I bought it, years ago when the kids were small, there were two virtually identical cars to choose from.  One was gray, one red.  I leaned toward the gray.  I was outvoted. Red cars, apparently, “are faster”.  Statistically, I know they get pulled over by the police more often than other cars.  That’s not a  good thing.

I just know that one night, middle-aged me with my graying hair, wearing my orange, red and teal patchwork pants from Tibet, got out of my bright red car, and went into the liquor store to buy a bottle of tequila.  And it felt great.  At first I thought “I probably look like a lot more fun than I really am.”

And then I thought, “No, I really am this fun.”  And all the colours are my favourite colour.

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