The other day I was standing in line at a fast food burger place with my octogenarian friend Gordon. It was a busy lunch hour, the lines stacked four and five deep. Gordon surveyed the room, his eyes finally coming to rest on one of the workers behind the counter.
"Look at that girl with the pink hair!" he said, laughing. "Looks unnatural, if you ask me."
Unnatural. Remember the Highlights magazine: "What's Wrong With This Picture"? Under the fluorescent lighting, the girl's long atomic pink hair appeared alien. It definitely caught my eye, kind of like a sewing basket tucked under the seat of a van, or a raccoon in broad daylight, cruising down a crowded sidewalk. For some, the color is the ultimate in pretty. For others, it's exacerbating.


"What are you, some kind of communist?" he bellowed at the guy.
"Broccoli grass splitpea soup moss"
"Cut it out! Now!" the retiree said.
"Pine tree Washington State flag four-leaf clover"
The wife pulled the tourist away before he could do the kid physical harm. The man's distress was palpable; I worried he was going to suffer some kind of stroke.
Unnatural colors can elicit visceral reactions, like suspicion and apoplexy. Then again, they can be just plain kewl.
No comments:
Post a Comment