I PAINTED MY ROOM PINK

I painted my room pink.

Pink is the color of Pepto Bismol.

As you know, pink is the color

of Pepto Bismol. But did you know

that I painted my room

pink? I painted my room pink.

Take the flamingo’s color,

whose color is pink, but only a sort-of

pink, place it carefully into a nuclear accelerator,

and as the screaming diminishes,

you will have the pink color that one

normally associates with Cholera Infantum.

Voilà! Yes, that’s it’s real name. Pepto Bismol.

Not ‘Voilà!’ I like Voilà! But Pepto Bismol is not Voilà, it is

Cholera Infantum. My real name, for example,

is Richard, but I don’t have the nerve to say,

Hello, my name is Richard. However, if you call me Dick,

I will sock you one. Richie, I guess, OK.

I like the bowtie

of Richie Rich. That’s a start, I guess.

I don’t know. Hello, I could say,

my name is Voilà. Or: my name is Cholera Infantum,

but you can call me ___________. (I will let you decide.)

But if you have already decided, then you can’t decide.

Some things you can’t decide, because they

they have already been decided – or worse yet –

have already happened. For example,

my best friend’s name is Chewy, there

is nothing I can do about that. For example, I painted

my room pink, but not stupid pink, like the

color of the majestic flamingo running at full speed

from the nuclear accelerator, which is chasing him on

his tiny little but extremely fast metallic feet. Just pink.

Ah, those were

the days. Tiny little titanium feet.

Many, many days. Good ones, too. Pink Days.

Yet I am thinking not of a color,

but a number, and

of one number in particular.

For example, In “1901”,

A showing of “71” Vincent Van Gogh paintings in Paris,

“11” years after his death, creates a (1) sensation. “His death”

would of course be the death of

Vincent Van Gogh. “Great things are

done by a series of small things brought together.”

Woe!

The (1901 version of) William McKinley is sworn in

as President,

and guess

who is Vice President?

Go on, guess. That’s right: Theodore

Roosevelt. BLAM!

And Children everywhere enjoy the

delicious wintergreen taste of Pepto Bismol,

thank you, Norwich Pharmaceuticals: (1901)

Aye it is a good sound, the

sound of children

sucking

on the little pink lozenges, and

mmmmm mmmmmmm mmmmmm

like silent screen

stars.

Silent screen stars holding their lovers tongues in

their mouths, when conversation will not do, like children.

For conversation will never do in

silent movies. Let’s be honest. Although this is

not entirely true. We can pretend. Sometimes it did.

Although

rarely, and beautifully.

Those children are now, officially,

somewhere around

115 years old.

Their tummies are soothed.

How alarming, I thought to myself,

when I heard such fire engines as

they raced down the streets in

the silent movies of Charlie

Chaplin: nary a silence to be had.

How alarming, I thought to myself,

that my room looks

like this!

It is everything I always thought I would never be,

but am!

Everyone does what they must.

That’s not true. Some things

you do just because they are

so darn much fun. Real mustn’t-dos. Or whatever.

Procter & Gamble acquired

Norwich Pharmaceuticals in 1982 in what

is referred to as a hostile

takeover, but hey, it was

fun. And I always thought that

‘Procter’ should be spelled

correctly, P-R-O-C-T-O-R

but it wasn’t.

P-R-O-C-T-E-R And it never will be.

You may have me,
I said to Procter,

naked beneath the silky sheets,

if you change

the

spelling of your name.

No, Procter screamed, Never!

Begone saucy temptress!

Saucy and vile temptress,

I might add! And Procter

stormed out of my room,

which was

large

and

luxurious

and I was

naked and

luxurious

beneath

the duvet

which was not red, but rosa, you know,

pink. It was a terrible

takeover

war,

and many people were hurt,

although no one was killed.

And certain things must

never die. Like aspirin for instance.

It takes over my headache,

in a hostile style takeover. Thank goodness.

It is as it is. Thank you, I am

Norwich

Pharmaceuticals: aspirin makers Other things,

and certain things

must just be. Like this. As is.

And children’s

tummies must feel better.

They usually do. Not many die.

It’s a new world out there. It’s filled with colors

that you can’t imagine.

“I dream my painting, and then I paint my dream”

ah

ha! I said,

and yes! It is pink, a dream

and happiness,

alive.