Friday, March 9, 2007

Orange Appeal (Please Have One)

Orange Appeal (Please Have One)

...One from the archives, October 2006:

An Ode to Orange on All Hallows Even

As today is the once sacred All Hallows Even ("holy evening"), I will pay homage to the dead with an ode to orange, the color which best befits this liar's holiday, the walking and waking dream of those who make-believe.

Although I've seen it all around, as the pumpkins abound in this small place, it was not until I came face to crater face with the bright and brand new orange sponge this morning that I realized how happy the color makes me.

It was just sitting there—smiling at me, with not a smudge of organic residue to besmirch its hue.

The sight immediately moved me to wonder and ponder and appreciate all that glows with orange glee in my life:

The invigorating scent of orange-ginger lotion; the magic potion I occasionally mix for myself in the morning: 2 parts OJ to 1 part spray of mango puree; the slippery-sticky feel, the perky savoring, the teeth grating of the peel, the spicy-chilé flavoring of mango that is firm and ripe; thin wedges of salted orange; the burst of a single drop of pulp upon my tongue when my senses are piqued (that's when I'm high); the looming dioxide in the sky at the edge of the city heralding the dusk of a sultry summer day; my nostalgic pining for home—the glorious Golden state; the way I positively relate to the sunshine and the poppies and the rolling hills of my longing; the beautiful underside of the poisonous firebelly toad or the innocuous firebelly newt; the subtle verve underlying the elegance of black poised against orange; well crafted and rich desserts of sumptuous chocolate topped with swirling sprigs of peel; the great taste of Tang!; fresh squeezed carrot juice; the devilish appeal of Orange Julius; the wine-and-Cointreau soaked wedges awaiting at the bottom of a tall glass of Sangria; the ave Maria blessing of Fall and Her graceful touch upon it all, with the turning of leaves; the glorious feeling I believe when I hear the sound of the orange whoosh as I hit "all net"; the energy I get from caffienated orange-spice herbal tea; fresh-cut sunflowers in the foyer; the regal mystery of the orange elephant of India; the curry sauce of Tandoori chicken; the orange anticipation of that first bite into a Reeses peanut butter cup; that funny epidermis of the oompa-loompa and the pachydermous-like heffalumps and woozles; Tigger! that's spelled T-I-double Er-Ger; the magnificence of the migrating Monarch in flight; the sight of orange as it is instilled in the culture and splendor of México; el refresco de jugo de melón; my Texas Longhorns baseball cap; the-once was orange pumpkin of anything: pumpkin spice muffins or coffee, a generous slice of pie, and I would not lie if I claimed to love pumpkin soup!; and of course the mockingly haunting glow of the jack-o-lanterns on the stoop.

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