Crayon Colors for Seniors

 All this time stuck at home has led to folks taking up old-fashioned hobbies to keep from going stir crazy. Many of us have discovered (or rediscovered) jigsaw puzzles. Another trend that had already begun before the pandemic is adult coloring books. And by that, I don’t mean X-rated. I mean ones with more complex patterns, like Indian mandalas, designed to appeal to adults.

 

I’ve noticed some interesting books on this trend, and I’ve seen new crayon colors on back-to-school promotions. But I haven’t seen crayons created especially for seniors. Here’s good news for people who’ve been wishing for those. I’ve put together a new selection with colors that reflect seniors’ every day lives.

 

It begins with some hair shades that once were popular with little old ladies. Clairol Blue in the seniors 24-pack is trendier than the color older women used to dye their hair. It’s kind of punk, for those of you who march to your own drummer. L’Oreal Purple is an alternative to Clairol Blue. Some of you will prefer the more predictable blue; others will go all out with this purple. Enhance your coloring book designs by using both.

 

Keeping in this segment of the color wheel, the ever-essential Velcro Violet matches the sparks you see when you undo Velcro straps in a dimly lit room. Bad Mood Indigo is much darker than Velcro Violet, for when your frame of mind is truly gloomy. I perk up the wheel and your spirits with Widow Scarlet, an uplifting shade for any woman who finds herself on her own at this stage of life.

 

Moving on I have another bright choice that’s even more invigorating than Widow Scarlet. Roadster Red is the red-family crayon that men will grab as soon as their pack is opened. Sporty women will gravitate toward it, too. Rolling along the color wheel, no seniors 24-pack would be complete without Golf Cart Green. I’ve included this one expressly for duffers, and there are plenty of you in senior communities. Parked nearby in the pack, you’ll find Scooter Orange. Vroom! Vroom!

 

I’ve included a potpourri of interesting and livelier colors. In the game zone, I have Shuffleboard Disc Blue-green, inspired by that game’s energy. Spread it around with gusto! Chardonnay Yellow was a no-brainer. It matches the wine that is served at every Mahjong game. If you’re not a fan of Chardonnay, you might enjoy using Rosé Rose, a trendy alternative to heavy wine shades in the red family.

 

Other semi-bright colors reflect seniors’ physical issues and commonly prescribed medications. Bat Wing Pink is mostly for women. I’m sure some men get bat wings, too, but for some reason we notice them most on our female friends. Add to your pink tones with Cataracts Carnation. It’s brighter than Bat Wing Pink and can mimic a prism when scattered throughout a design. Scooter Orange too bright for your tastes? Choose Diuretic Apricot as a soothing alternative. On the other hand, Statin Cerulean is a stimulating shade in the blue-green family that will enliven any design.

 

Crayons in the brown family, though less exciting, are a must-have in any set. No senior crayon pack would be complete without Liver Spot Brown. Another obvious choice, Neck Wattle Beige makes an appropriate companion. In related medication colors, you’ll find Beta-Blocker Umber. It’s deep and earthy, an essential brown shade. Last in this subset is the ever-popular Earwax Mustard. Benjamin Moore was the source for the particular shade in the seniors 24-pack. Practice your colorist skills by blending these four together.

 

Crayons in the white and gray families are also staples of a proper set. The simple yet sophisticated Mahjong Tile Ivory is a useful neutral color. One of the lighter colors named for senior medications is Plavix Pearl, part of a calming palette. Nana White will become a favorite color for those of you who have grandchildren. Many older ladies will gravitate toward Goat Hair Silver. It was created to match those unsightly brittle hairs that sprout on our necks after a certain age. Finally, there’s Old Hag Wart Grey. Though named for females, even men should feel free to use this one.

 

There you have it—the new and exciting crayons created especially for seniors. Look for them soon in a store near you. Not available yet on Amazon, but I’m working on it.

 

Copyright 2021 Business Theatre Unlimited.

Sequester In Other Words

On the February 17^th Face the Nation, Bob Schieffer suggested that we find another word for “sequester,” the mandatory cuts to the federal budget that are set to go into effect the first of March. He recalled that President Carter was once told he shouldn’t use the word “inflation,” to which he supposedly replied: “OK. I’ll just call it a banana.” (The banana has alternately been credited to Carter’s “inflation czar,” Alfred Kahn, as an alternative to “depression.”)

I took Schieffer up on his suggestion and I’ve been exploring some other terms for “sequester.” First I needed to determine what that word really means. Microsoft Word’s reference tool provided some interesting information, along with quite a few alternatives.

The dictionary options were enlightening. I immediately ruled out the first: put somebody into isolation. The second probably best describes the original intent of the sequester: take property to cover obligation. But the third was the eye opener: take enemy’s property.

“Aha!” said I. “I think I’m on to something here.” If this election taught us nothing else, it was that many Democrats and Republicans perceive one another as the enemy. It was no doubt with that in mind that the notion of the sequester came into being in the first place. This did not immediately send a replacement term hurtling into my cerebral cortex, but I filed the notion away for reference later in this process.

In political terms, most of the alternatives proposed by the thesaurus sound even worse than the word “sequester” itself. Take for instance “confiscate.” That’s pretty much what Congress will be doing with the money that’s automatically cut from all the federal budget items. “Impound” doesn’t sound much better. It conjures up cars abandoned on city streets and towed off to some fenced in, godforsaken lot that no proper cab driver would take you to.

The variations on “isolate” (a secondary meaning per the thesaurus) seemed more palatable at first. But scrolling down, I found “quarantine,” and that made me itch. I drilled down on “separate,” hoping for something useful. That turned up “ghettoize.” Not a word any politician would choose instead of “sequester,” and perhaps a tad too close to the truth.

It was clear that the thesaurus would be no help to me in this quest for a euphemism for “sequester.” I’d have to go rogue on this one. I can hear my loyal followers raising a cheer at this prospect, thinking: “Elaine going rogue is bound to be more entertaining than Elaine plowing through a thesaurus.”

I shifted my focus from left brain to right brain. No longer would I proceed in terms of words, but rather in terms of images. First I pictured the members of the various budget committees with brooms in hand, sweeping the outlying crumbs of department allocations into neat little piles. Piles that could either be picked up and disposed of, or set aside in a corner, just in case there came a reprieve and they could be spread around again later in the fiscal year. This led me to “Swiffer” as my first alternative.

Next I envisioned functionaries with green eyeshades and electric pencil sharpeners, poring over pages of expenses, ticking off the ones they felt were discretionary. This conjured up the image of Scrooge’s beleaguered clerk, which provided the option “cratchit,” or “cratchitize.” I’m not sure that’s an improvement over sequester, but at least it’s more colorful.

Back to the notion of taking the enemy’s property, I zeroed in on "spoils of war." I Googled this phrase and uncovered a website that gives English first names with that meaning. The very idea was so bizarre that I was compelled to visit babynames.merchat.com to learn what those names are. Turns out there are just four of them, and two of those are variations of the others. What caught my eye was "Edelina," which just happens to be an anagram of my first name and the first initial of my last name.

This discovery was beyond strange; it was a karmic sign. I became enamored with the idea of replacing “sequester” with an anagram of my own name. From now on, I shall use “edelina” whenever I refer to the sequester. I’ll sound positively erudite as I discuss political euphemisms and nuances of speech. I might even be invited to appear on Face the Nation.

In the meantime, I’m going to open a nice bottle of vino and savor my propitious discovery. Because sure as God made green apples, Congress will pass another continuing resolution, and the risk of an edelina will be put off another six months, removing it from talk show topics and my name from the shows' guest lists.