This writing prompt points out a deficit of mine.  Maybe it’s a strength.  But since I can remember, colors, clothes. design, art  has never grabbed me, at least like I see how others react to it.

I would get annoyed when someone asked me to help them make a decision on color coordination.  It seemed worse when they gave me a choice of two and I oickedd one and then they slammed my choice.  (came to learn that to be a female trick to see how far she could push you).  Since I was the only boy in the family (cousins included) I had to color coordinate, dance, sing, sew, cook and a host of other unmanly things.

I realize now, today, the appeal of my two deceased wives.  They were like me.  They did not care about these things.  As a psychologist, I had a patient who complained about how different his wife was on the issue of color and preference.  He agreed with his wife that he would go out and make money so she could stay home with his daughters and figure out wall colors and occasionally buy shoes to break the monotony.  He reached a limit when he found out that after they figured the color scheme, he had to go buy the paint and then paint the walls.  The whole time he said they complained that he was painting it wrong.  The family eventually settled on irreconcilable differences.

The constant exposure to the feminine arts slowly had an affect on me.  I admire men who dress nicely.  I know good fabric and good fit albeit I do not practice it.  But one day I saw a woman with horizontal black and white stripes on the blouse with vettical black and white on the bottom.  I honestly thought there had been a jail break.  She was rather curvaceous and the stripes were going in various directions.  I knew this to be a fashion faux pas,

I have two Cuban women in separate apartments next to me.  They are sweet gals and funny.  They also have the two biggest asses in the neighborhood.  When they walk in the huge park next to the house they look like hippos grazing on the Serengeti. They tend to wear very bright colors like canary yellow or burnt orange or brilliant white.  Need I say they look like they have a map of Russia dragging behind them.  Then one day they wore brown pants and the map shrunk to the size of Portugal.  So the years of hearing “does this color make my ass look big”  now made sense.

So my favorite color is blue.  I don’t know why but I figure I have blue eyes which I seldom see but people remark about them, (“blue eyed bastard” “keep away from my daughter you blue eyed freak”)  I’m working on changing my image.

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