Color My World

First the good news. I’m out of the hospital. Now the bad news. We are in a color rut.

While I was in the hospital my daughter would bring get well cards that popped up in either of our mailboxes. I don’t know about anybody else but I have hard time with cards in the hospital. There’s so little room to begin with and what space is there is loaded with stuff. Hospital stuff. Bags and bottles, water and tissues, and those funny machines you breathe in on to keep you from getting pneumonia. But it was nice to see them, read them, and call the well wishers when I had a few moments. But the cards went back home so they would not be lost or thrown away.

When I got home I had a chance to take them all out and really read them and the notes so many had added. Then my daughter noticed it. “Are they color coding greeting cards?” She had observed, and observed correctly, that the vast majority of the get well cards were contained in yellow or some shade of yellow envelopes. There were also about half as many white, two brown, and one lowly blue card cover.

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Naturally this led to other occasions and what is used to wrap those greetings. Some were easy and unanimous (although with only two of us participating in the survey, unanimity was hardly conclusive). Envelopes for St. Patrick’s Day cards while we aren’t certain why they exist exist in green, usually swaddling a card portraying a drunken cartoon leprechaun or somebody presumably more than a little tipsy wearing beer goggles. Yellow envelopes when not paired with get well cards wrap themselves around Easter cards. Valentines come with red envelopes, Hanukkah cards are festooned in blue, First Communion, Confirmation, and Wedding cards get white envelopes, and Halloween cards, which confound us as much as St. Patrick’s Day cards, are distributed with orange envelopes. And although we’d think a black envelope for a sympathy card could catch on, they always seem to be in a plain white wrapper.

Some cards have standard colors but more than one. Christmas cards can be counted on the be in red or white envelopes with an odd green cover tossed in now and then. Thanksgiving is usually celebrated in brown or other earth tone shade although an orange envelope apparently left over from Halloween may pop up. Baby shower cards have the predictable pink or blue or the unpredictable white enclosure.

And some cards make no sense at all. Although you can almost count on a Mother’s Day card being in a pink envelope, a Father’s Day card might be in almost any color cover. And birthday cards exist with a rainbow of choices of envelope color.

I suppose somehow it all makes sense and although it’s rather formulaic it’s the system we’ve gotten used to. My question is who responsible and if I want to corner the market on Waffle Iron Day cards (which is coming up on May 29) do I have to submit an envelope color proposal before I willy nilly make them maple syrup amber?

 

Making the Case for Glitter Free Decorating

You all know I am just out of the hospital a few days now. I was out only a few hours when I discovered that my fingertips shimmered in the dark. No, it wasn’t some reaction to a drug I was given. It wasn’t a remnant of some procedure done. No, it was glitter. Glitter. That shimmery, flaky stuff that adorns cards, bows, wreaths, probably even some brands of toothpaste for all I know. Oh how I hate glitter.

While protected under the blanket of sterility and cleanliness of the hospital I was able to enjoy a couple of weeks knowing my immediate environs were blissfully glitter-free. Then I got better. I was released to the world overrun with those sparkly specks. Oh how I hate glitter.

Why do I so hate glitter? First consider that I too recognize the prettiness of light twinkling from multiple surfaces. I just wish one of those surfaces wasn’t me! Once I come into contact with glitter it is with me forever. I can’t wipe it off. I can’t blow it off. It doesn’t wash off, scrape off, or soak off. It doesn’t even loofah off. Glitter on me is like iron filings on a magnet.

I think we need to establish some glitter rules. First, no surprise glitter. If I see a glitter gilded wreath on a door I will gladly climb through a window to get into that house. But if you send me a glittery card in a plain, white envelope – that’s just not fair. Second, manufacturers of shiny objects must identify the presence and level of glitter used in the making of said sheen. And third, stores, particularly card and home good shops, must provide a glitter free zone for glitter magnetic consumers.

I’m sure working together we can have a glitter free society where sparkly prettiness and good mental health can coexist.

That’s what I think. Really. How ’bout you.

Who’s Naughty, Who’s Nice

It’s worked for the man in red since he hitched his sleigh to his first magic reindeer.  It’s that famous list.  Who’s naughty?  Who’s nice?  We’ve borrowed that idea.   No, not for who gets coal in their stocking and who gets gift cards.  We’ve taken the big guy’s concept and applied it to our most important holiday list.  Who gets a card, and within that group, who gets what card? 

Actually, Santa has it easy.  You’re good, you make the grade.  You’re bad, better luck next year.  It seems to work for him.  We’re a bit more discriminating.    You see, there are actually two lists.

List #1 is the big one, the discriminator, THE list.  Who’s on and who’s off.   Didn’t talk to us at all last year – no calls, no stop overs, no Friday night dinners?  You’re naughty.  (Exceptions made for Aunt Whatshername in Minnesota.)  Brought out a cup of hot chocolate when you saw us waiting for the AAA a quarter mile from home?  You’re nice.  Used to be a couple last year and aren’t this year and you’re the reason?  You’re naughty.  For life!  Used to be a couple last year and aren’t this year because who used to be the better half turned out as bad as everyone else knew?  You’re nice.  Clueless, but nice.  Haven’t talked to us in 14 years and suddenly you start calling  and inviting us to your club for lunch right after you saw in the paper we hit the lottery?  You’re naughty and so are your children.   And so we continue through last year’s lists separating the nice from the caught, the haughty, and the generally naughty.

List #2 is where we recognize the nicest of the nice.  That’s the Good Cards List.  These are the people for whom we care enough to send the best.  These are the truest allies, the closest relatives, the genuine friends. These are the people you think of when considering which Christmas card sparkling with glitter, rich with real parchment, and with a verse that says exactly what you want to say, will convey that nice has its privileges.  Requires extra postage?  No problem.  If you’ve made the nice half of this list you’re worth it!  Who’s on the other side?  Those not naughty enough to be banished entirely from this season’s greetings but not A-List worthy.  They get the previous year’s end of season special at the dollar store – 4 boxes for a buck, matching envelopes maybe.  These are the relatives 3 states away you keep on your list only because they keep sending to you.  (Exceptions made for Aunt Whatshername in Minnesota.)  These are the neighbors who didn’t call the police after that unfortunate incident at the fish fry with the hot oil and the pile of dry leaves.  These are for the paper carrier (who made the list just because of the entertaining holiday letter but that was a different post).

Naughty or nice?  It’s a powerful responsibility.  Use it wisely.  Face it, at $4.59 a pop you can’t care enough to send the best to everyone!

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?