Friday, September 22, 2017

Take me out of the ball park

There are lots of "classic" TV shows of which I have not seen so much as a nanosecond...anything to do with any "Star Trek" iteration, "St Elsewhere," "Doctor Who," and "Magnum, P.I." among them.

"Magnum" starred Tom Selleck. Oddly enough, while I never watched his first show, I don't think I've missed an episode of his current one, "Blue Bloods."

I do know that in the "Magnum" show, Selleck played a private eye in Hawaii who wore OP shorts and Hawaiian shirts and a Detroit Tigers baseball cap, the home version with the Olde English "D" in white.

Another cultural pleasure of which I remain blissfully out of the loop is this thing called "cosplay," the portmanteau that means you put on a COStume and PLAY at being some famous character.

In Michigan there exits a cadre of men who are into the "Cosplay as Magnum" thing, so 45 of them dressed up as the character and went to Comerica Park for a Tigers game/bachelor party for a guy named Joe Tuccini.

If you count the cardboard cutout of Selleck in his Magnum finery, there were 46 of them, and some of them might have gotten as stiff as the cutout, and started carrying on and catcalling in the ballpark, and at least one of them was smoking a cigar. They tell me that Magnum smoked cigars on the show, as did his manservant Higgins, who was known for saying "Oh, my God" long before every teenaged girl in America started saying it.

So you have 45 men, stag, dressed as a Hawaiian bon vivant character, maybe sipping on some suds and puffing Cheroots, a-hootin' and a-hollerin', and they were thrown out of the ballpark for their behavior.

Let's hear it for the ushers and security force at Detroit's baseball stadium!

Thursday, September 21, 2017

Be Prepared

The New Yorker  would use this in their occasional "Constabulary Notes From All Over" column.

The setting is LaPorte, Indiana.  Out there in John Cougar Mellencamp Country, people help each other out. The police out there recently helped a stranded motorist who had run out of gas, and gave him a ride to town.

You know who else helps people out? Obstetricians!

But the man pictured here is Sean Harris, a 33-year-old resident of the Hoosier State, and a stranger to medical colleges all over (but not to neck tattoo parlors).

Sean HarrisHarris was allegedly in an intoxicated state when he ran out of gas while driving his automobile on Indiana State Rd 8 the other day. It's odd that he ran out of gas, because he had just visited a BP station in Lacrosse, IN, and left with some food and beverage items, and cigarettes, before leaving the station on US 421.

He took 421 to Rd 8 before running out of gas.  Oh, you know what else he took? He took the food, drinks, and smokes without paying, which is why a State Trooper took 421 to 8 and found Harris in his stalled machine.

LaPorte County Sheriff's deputies assisted in the arrest, which resulted in DWI charges being filed on Harris, in addition to the theft charges.

There will soon be a meme appearing on Facebook bearing the face of Mr Harris and the advice for all would-be thieves to make sure to gas up the Firebird before pulling capers.

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Blame it on the moon

I still haven't figured out who was kidding whom down in Florida as Irma the Hurricane approached.

A guy started a Facebook page exhorting locals in the path of the behemoth storm to "Shoot at Hurricane Irma."

Having just recently read about how one Billy Ray Taylor and some others in Kelly, Kentucky, shot their weapons at what they perceived to be "Little Green Men" invading from Mars in 1955 (it turned out to be a parliament of owls), I was on the hunt for another story in which men (it's always men) shoot guns at some otherworldly force.

Well, sir, the Pasco County Sheriff's office took this seriously, posting a tweet as the storm drew near. "To clarify, DO NOT shoot weapons at Irma," read the tweet in an earnest, albeit poorly worded, bit of advice.  "You won't make it turn around & it will have very dangerous side effects."

Such as shooting the people next door, or your car.

46,000 souls clicked "like" on the page started by Ryon Edwards. Edwards was later to write that he was "amazed that anyone could see it as anything else than a joke." He told the news down there that the idea for the page came to him out of "stress and boredom."

Sometimes I just shake my old head and hear the thoughts (or something) rattling around in there, and one of the thoughts is that a joke ought to be funny.

Just to give you an example, here is a joke that is funny, as told by comedy master Norm MacDonald:

"A guy said, 'I want you to buy this pit bull. This will protect your valuables.' I don't own anything very valuable. If I buy the pit bull, that would be the most valuable thing I own. I'd have to buy something to protect it then."

And this one, which I have heard from comics like Buddy Hackett and Mel Tillis:

A guy goes into a pet shop and tells the owner that he needs a pet for his mother. The guy says that Mom lives alone and could really use some company. Pet shop guy says, "I have just what she needs. A parrot that can speak in five languages. She'll have a lot of fun with that bird." The guy says he'll take the parrot and makes arrangement to have the bird delivered to his Mom. A few days pass and the man calls his mother. "Well Mom, how did you like that bird I sent?" She says, "Oh son, he was delicious!" Aghast, the guys says, "Mom, you ate that bird? Why, he could speak five languages!" 

And the Mom says, "Well, he shoulda said something!"

All in good fun, and no bullets flying.

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Rock and role

Image result for kindness rocks
Not long ago, the thing to do was to do random acts of kindness. Remember them? Paying the toll for the guy behind you on the interstate, or buying coffee for the entire crowd at S'Bux, or icing down a case of bottled water and passing out chilly Dasanis at the Fourth of July parade...

If I ever go back on the radio, I will use the air name "Chilly Dasani."

I'm sure that still goes on, the random act thing, but now the thing to do is to emblazon messages of love, admiration or encouragement on rocks and leave them where people in need of love, admiration or encouragement will find them.

They're called Kindness Rocks, and here is a link to a site that tells you how to make your own.

According to the Kindness Rocks Project, you can leave a message rock where the intended recipient will stumble over it (not literally) or you can create an entire Inspiration Garden.

Image result for kindness rocks inspiration garden

Rocks go through this, this spate of popularity, every few years.  They are plentiful, so you don't have to spend a nickel to find some, and they are easily cleaned and painted. Pet Rocks made a fortune in the 1970s for the guy who figured out that people would spend $5 (that's like $4 in 2017 money!) to get a little rock that looked like a potato in a cardboard box with ventilation holes to put on their desk to hold their paperweights down.

And any family with a simple home smelting operation can mine their back yard and produce their own zinc, lead, copper, aluminum and aquarium gravel.  OR you can paint inspirational slogans on them and leave them on the neighbor's porch or your child's lunchbox or the reception area down at the loan office where you go to make payments on your smelter.

Image result for finding painted rocks

Related imageI think the choice is clear. 

Monday, September 18, 2017

Sugar and Spice

Maybe we misjudged Sean Spicer.

He got off to a bad start, coming out the day after the recent poorly-attended inauguration to declaim to a skeptical press corps that the ceremonies drew, in fact, a gathering of humanity seventeen times the size of Woodstock, with the New Year's crowd from Times Square thrown in. He was put in a tough spot, forced to repeat spurious information to balm the ego of the new guy.

In so doing that day, Spicer came off like a substitute shop teacher who was brought in after the tough guys in Metal Shop soldered Mr Pipgrass's pants to his BVDs and was told to crack down right away.  He got off to the worst start of any presidential press secretary in our history, and never really got his footing behind the podium.  And it didn't help that as the press hurled scorn and invective at him, his sardonic boss was sprinkling disdain all over him as well. Within days, Melissa McCarthy was lining up to knock him every Saturday Night Live and the country roared as "Spicey" came to life as a Barney Fife-like caricature.

It seemed that things really hit their nadir when the traveling White House road show played the Vatican. I'm not Catholic, but I understand that meeting the pope is, without question, the top goal for anyone of that faith.  And it must have crushed Spicer when his boss cruelly did not allow him to meet the pontiff as much as it would have hurt me had I not been allowed a private audience with Ernest Tubb at the Civic Center in 1967. 

I think that's when the public tide turned and people started to feel sorry for Sean, and it wasn't that much longer that he was replaced by someone's hard-to-employ daughter out of Arkansas.

And then - this happened! Spicer appeared on the Jimmy Kimmel show and played along with the jibes, and then here he was on last night's Emmy awards telecast to the surprise of all. He rolled out behind a podium, just as Melissa did, and he mocked himself with, "This will be the largest audience to witness an Emmy’s, period, both in-person and around the world." 

And the audience in the theater and at home laughed, this time with him, and not at him.

A lot of times we start out in a new venture tripping all over ourselves and landing right on our asterisks.*  If someone is keeping score, I'm sure they could tell you that I am a world leader in making an ass-embly of myself, and one thing I have learned is, if they're laughing, don't get mad, laugh with them!

Spicer seems to have learned that, and now we might as well all go to Amazon to pre-order the book he will certainly have up for sale in time for Christmas. 

Sunday, September 17, 2017

Sunday Rerun: Space Doubt

In the days before microwave ovens made it possible for us to nuculate Hot Pockets and Jimmy Dean Breakfast Sandwiches at work for lunch, lunch choices were limited to whatever one could stuff in a brown bag.

And it was even worse for astronauts! Floating around in space in a multi-million dollar space capsule, those brave men couldn't very well pack cheese and crackers for lunch. There were very delicate electronic parts aboard, and crumbs hanging in the air in a weightless environment could very well get in the works and jam things up.

If you remember Space Food Sticks, that was Pillsbury's idea, bringing to American pockets, lunch pails and vending machines the tubular Astronaut food with the consistency of a Tootsie Roll and the taste of tree bark and sawdust. But food for grinding on in a space ship had to be crumb-free and molded into blocks or tubes. All other food was strictly not A-OK, in NASA parlance.

John Young was the pilot of the Apollo III mission in March, 1965. Later, he became the ninth man to walk on the moon (1972) but first, he became the first man to smuggle a corned beef sandwich aboard a NASA mission. As Apollo III hurtled spaceward, he reached into the pocket of his spacesuit and pulled out a corned-beef-on-rye-with-mustard and began to chomp away.

 It turned out that another astronaut with a penchant for practical gaggery, Wally Schirra, had slipped off to a deli in Cocoa Beach FL, brought the sammy to Young, and sat back to enjoy the hijinx.

We can say that this was not the worst thing that ever happened in the state of Florida or in the province of American space travel. No beef or rye molecules ruined any onboard equipment, although the next guy to take that spaceship for a ride did complain that there was mustard all over the steering wheel.

And the bigshots at NASA had to do some fancy scrambling when, at the next Senate Appropriations Committee hearing to determine how much more of our tax money would be wasted spent on flying around like William Shatner, Sen. George E. Shipley blasted NASA: “My thought is that after you spend a great deal of money and time, to have one of the astronauts slip a sandwich aboard this vehicle, frankly, is just a little disgusting.”

To end the suspense, they got their money anyway and Americans landed on the moon in July 1969.  

Or so you think.

Saturday, September 16, 2017

The Saturday Picture Show, September 16, 2017

There was a time that children were told that "the stork" brought babies. I was really upset when I found out the truth about them being found under huge cabbage leaves in the garden. 
Someone with a curious mind put out two rolls - one under, one over - to see which was the preferred setup. You can see for yourself, the clear winner is "over."
There is nothing I enjoy seeing more than a sight like this, soon to be seen on roadways all over our town. It's almost October, and we could be snowed upon as early as next month!
And here is another good idea for fall, a time of year when everyone wants pumpkin spice errthang. Your car will thank you and let you know it's time to bundle up by needing a new muffler.
The New Orleans Pelicans were a minor-league baseball team for many years. During the time (1940 - 1942) that they were affiliated with the St Louis Cardinals, they wore jerseys sort of like what the Cards wore, but with pelicans balanced on a bat instead of cardinals. That is a cool-looking bird. 
We were happy to make a picture of a rectangular-looking giraffe back in the early days of Etch-a-Sketching, and now people are doing all sort of complicated designs on there. That little red frame on a silver screen has been around since 1960!
The hands, and "Trigger," the guitar, of Willie Nelson. 
With cats in the house, our plans to do jigsaw puzzles have waned, but they still provide lots of fun for old and young.

Friday, September 15, 2017

The Hunker Game

Did you know there's a game called "Hunker Down"?

Don't confuse it with Husker Du, which was a children's board game, sort of like Concentration on TV, but with no Hugh Downs.

No, the Hunker Down game is played when everyone is sitting around watching The Weather Channel or some local coverage of an impending hurricane or blizzard or Ed Shearan concert - the sort of calamity that makes us take shelter. You play it this way: every time someone on the news (an anchor in the studio with his jacket off and his shirt sleeves rolled up to indicate seriousness of purpose, or a reporter out on the street wearing an LL Bean anorak and holding onto a "YIELD" sign for dear life) says, "It's time to hunker down..." you take a nip, and the last person standing wins.

I said it was a game. I didn't say it was a good game.

But, fascinated with words, I looked up "hunker" in the Merriam-Webster, and from there I found that it's
 "Originally Scottish. Origin unknown, but probably of Germanic origin, perhaps *hunk- or *huk-. Probable cognates include Old Norse húka, Dutch huiken, and German hocken.


hunker (third-person singular simple present hunkerspresent participle hunkeringsimple past and past participle hunkered)
  1. (intransitive) To crouch or squat close to the ground.
Derived terms[edit]
Are you like me, picturing German-Scots wearing kilts and eating sauerbraten, getting ready to hunker?

I'll tell you something really cool you can get just by going to the Merriam-Webster site! You can look at a word and find when it was first used in print...or look at a year and see what words were first used in that year! 

Image result for hunker downI take no small pride in seeing that "cable television," "Cargo pants," and "water gun" first saw the light of day in the year I did the same. 

And "hunker" dates back to 1720, a dozen years before George Washington came along, but surely, sometime that year, some colonial in a tricorn hat told his neighbor that his aching knee told him that a big storm was coming in and so it was time to hunker down in the sod hut.

Isn't history fun?

Thursday, September 14, 2017

The cool cool word of the day

It's fun to keep up with the English language (what's left of it), and a good place to follow the torn and tattered remnants of our mother tongue is the morning tv news shows, where grammar is hardly even considered, and mispronunciations are the rule of the day.

I'm all through hammering on their grammar and pronunciation, although I'm usually glad that Peggy is outside enjoying her porch coffee when Michael Strahan reports on the "Chipolte" restaurant chain.  

My new thing is catching the trending words on the news shows. For the longest time, everything was "horrific." Car wrecks, natural disasters, Madonna movies: all got the "horrific" label stuck on them and everyone had to use it.

Also on the abused words and terms list: "latebreaking," which covers anything that happened since breakfast, "overnight," which on Good Morning America means anything that happened since 9 AM yesterday, "walk back," which does not refer to when your car won't start and you leave it at work, but, rather, to when a politician or crook of some stripe gets caught in a big fib and they stutter and stammer three choruses of what they MEANT to say, and, of course, the Cliche Twins, "the devil is in the details," and "Pride goeth before a fall."

"The devil..." is used to describe something so byzantine as to defy description by mortals, such as the federal budget, or a Madonna movie.  "Pride goeth..." is always trotted out in winter, and used to describe a video of some stuffy business type taking a pratfall on an icy sidewalk in some icy city.

main image
But I am here to report on a new addition to the Top 10 Overused Words.  I've heard it all week to describe the response to Hurricane Harvey, kids going back to school, batting against Steve Dalkowski, and finding really nice cilantro.

The word is "daunting," and here is what your Google says about it: 
seeming difficult to deal with in anticipation; intimidating.
"a daunting task"
synonyms: intimidating, formidable, disconcerting, unnerving, unsettling, dismaying; discouraging, disheartening, dispiriting, demoralizing; forbidding, ominous, awesome, frightening, fearsome; challenging, taxing, exacting
"the daunting task of raising five boys"

So don't let Amy Robach, Jenna Bush Hager and Charlie Rose beat you at the game. Grab a word and use it, use it, use it! That's not too daunting a task, is it? 

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

Winging it

Many years ago, a young couple we knew were married and set up housekeeping, but as time went by, the arguments and bickering began. He claimed that she refused to mend the holes in his socks, and her grievance was that he knew she wanted a stuffed owl to decorate the living room and he stubbornly refused to purchase one.

They went back and forth with this until the day she confided to friends that "If he doesn't give a hoot, I don't give a darn."

Well, here's one owl she can't have, happily. 

Down in Salisbury, Maryland, an owl escaped from the town zoo (which I have been to and really like!) in July when a tree fell down in a storm, damaging the avian enclosure.

It's a spectacled owl, you see, so he was able to see his way out...

Anyhow, the other day, some workers at the zoo were doing their normal animal care business in the aviary when they looked up and guess HOOOO was in there?  

That's right! He came home, a little thinner and thirsty, but healthy and happy to be back, and able to participate in the zoo's fundraising plans to fix up the enclosure.

Good news for Salisbury and even better for the owl, who otherwise might have had to work at Hooters all winter.

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

A book fine for a fine book

I've been a patron of our excellent Baltimore County Public Library since I was but a "barefoot boy with cheek of tan," but I'll warrant that I have not paid more than a dollar in fines for lateness over the years.  It's part of my OCD to be on time for everything, and returning a book late would send me into a spin that not even a new book by Tom Wolfe could get me out of.

So I don't really know if the library takes "alternative payment methods" in settlement of fines for people returning some John Grisham pageturner three weeks late.

(Free pen name suggestion for aspiring authors: "Paige Turner.")

I have seen people write checks for their late charges, and now and then, someone will pull out their VISA and wave it around, but can you use bitcoins, Paypal, or barter with a bag of zucchini or some baby chicks? This, I don't know, but someone surely does.

I can tell you for sure that if you find yourself in Danvers, Massachusetts, and you are bringing back a Rick Warren self-help help book that you helped yourself to a month and a half ago, you cannot pay the fee with Chuck E. Cheese tokens.

That's right. The Associate Press reports that Peabody Institute Library in Danvers, Massachusetts, wrote on Facebook about how they have had a lot of people trying to settle their fines with game tokens from Chuck E. Cheese and Bonkers— another amusement house in Peabody.
Image may contain: makeup
Bookkeeper Sue Kontos told The Salem News that she was balancing the till one day recently and found that someone had slipped three Chuck E. Cheeses dealies in there as if they were real currency.

The library would have you to know that "tokens are not legal tender and cannot be accepted."

They also remind slow readers that they can't accept Canadian money either.

This is in Danvers, remember, which was once known as Salem, where wiccans were once put on trial, so I would not try any clever tricks with these people.  They might invite you in for a sandwitch.

Monday, September 11, 2017

A look back and forward

It's late last night as I write this. (Notice how a blog can shift time as it sees fit?)

So much is on everyone's mind these days. The 16th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks is today, and curiously, September 11, 2001 was a beautiful sunny day, just like the weather has been here in the mid-Atlantic for the past few days.

Related imageBut sadly, the weather in other parts of America has been far short of stellar. Western wildfires, the ebbing waters of Houston after Hurricane Harvey, and the current unspeakable, unthinkable damage in Florida from Hurricane Irma.

The 2001 calamity was stunning for the loss of lives, and these current cataclysms will take some lives with them, and certainly billions of dollars in property. And worse, the loss for many people of all they owned, from family photos to houses to hopes and dreams and confidence in the future.

We as a nation have a great ability to get back to our feet, dust ourselves off and walk on. I have to feel that help will arrive in Texas and Florida and the other states awash in loss and misery down South, and things will get back close to something like normal...someday.  Not soon.

But it was predictable that people in Florida would take advantage of the situation down there, breaking into stores and ripping them off. My feelings about law and order are quite plain. I don't like it when laws are broken, at all.

But when TV news crews are out getting video of the looting, and people race to put those images on Facebook as evidence of the evil in society, I can only think of one thing, and that is how interesting it would be if there could be video of investment bankers looting pension funds with total impunity.

You won't see that on the local news, because that sort of looting takes place in well-appointed boardrooms in office buildings we never get to see.

We can be better. All of us. Not just the petty thieves, but all. Just think of the national amity that 9/11/01 brought on. We were kind.

Sunday, September 10, 2017

Sunday Rerun: On the other hand

Idly leafing through a "Real Simple" magazine while idly leafing through a sick day yesterday (I think the meds I took were harder on me than the cough/fever/cold) I came across an article in which a woman listed ten things that her father had told her - and was RIGHT about!

You remember what Mark Twain said, about how when he was 16 his father was the stupidest man alive, and how surprised Twain was, at 21, to see how much the old man had learned in five short years!

Of course, that can go both ways.  If your father happens to be a foolish bloviating ignorant poophead, then don't hold your breath waiting for wisdom to be conferred upon him anytime in this century.

But most Dads are not mel-contents, so you can learn from them. The woman who wrote the article mentioned a couple of old maxims: keep plenty of baggies around (big yeah from me!), you can't go wrong with a Clint Eastwood movie (with only the sole exception of Bridges of Madison County, but no one is perfect) and always have a handkerchief (I wouldn't be without my bandana.  Ask to see it, any time.)

One interesting note that the writer learned from her pop, and I really liked, was this one:

1. Hold hands while you hash it out. My folks have been married for 47 years. One of my father’s rules for a happy marriage is that if a nasty argument erupts, hold hands as you fight. You’ll feel goofy doing this, but here’s the thing: It works. Recently my husband, Tom, forgot to pay a few bills that were buried under a pile of clutter. I was incandescent with rage. So we interlaced our  fingers while we talked it out, and I felt my blood pressure plummet and my endorphins flow in spite of myself. It’s impossible to scream at someone who is giving your hand a gentle squeeze. It just is.

Now, now, now.  I really like this one.  It's from the "a soft voice turneth away wrath" school of behavior, and many marriages and relationships seem to run off the fumes, if not the grapes, of wrath. So, since you can't fight if you can't find someone to fight with, try this out and let me know how it works, will ya?  Because Peggy and I, well, we just don't have those fights.  Peggy is the greatest wife in the world.  She deals with my mother with the economic skills of Ben Bernanke, the healing skills of Ben Carson, the dessert skills of Ben and Jerry, and the diplomatic wisdom of Ben Franklin. After 37 years, and with neither of us being hotheaded or temperamental, we know each other so well, that there is little chance of becoming "incandescent with rage."  I mean, really. You're gonna go ten rounds just because he forgot to pay some bills?  Did the world come to an end?  I hear you can forgo house payments altogether for like two years before the sheriff even has chance to mail foreclosure papers to your front door, so, come on with the bills already.  Oh sure, there are times I have to sit down and give Peggy a good listening-to over something I did or didn't do, and yes, I was wrong to a buy magazine subscription when a pretty girl came door-to door putting herself through college, and I was dead-to-rights wrong when I was certain that "Light Brown" paint from K-Mart was a perfect substitute for "Raleigh Tavern Tan from the Olde Williamsburgh Collection" paint for the backsplash at the old house, and yes, I thought it was pretty funny to move all the pots and pans and plates and cups in that same kitchen, but if only someone had been holding my left hand, I would only have been able to prank half as much that night.  It was to be the next morning that I came to find out that rearranging the kitchen was not nearly as funny as I thought it would be.  

I know that now.  Give me a hand.

Friday, September 8, 2017

Purple passion

Image result for michael jackson ravens uniform purpleBe honest with you, my dear Peggy was not so much into football until the Baltimore Ravens came to town. After the team's nickname and colors and uniforms were designed, the team held a grand unveiling downtown, and when Peggy saw the late wide receiver Michael Jackson strut out wearing #81 she exclaimed, "Oh look! They wear purple outfits!" and she was a fan for life.

"Uniforms." Not outfits.

But the color of products makes a difference, and if a "brand" can be identified by a particular hue, so much the better. You think of black and orange, Baltimore Orioles come to town - the birds and the Birds.  John Deere tractors are John Deere green. You want to send a package, you wonder what Brown can do for you today. And a sharp-eyed gift-getter knows the Tiffany shade of turquoisiness at 50 yards.
Image result for prince logo

The late entertainer Prince was, for a while, known by a logo and not his name. He gave that up after no one on earth could figure out what the devil he was talking about, but notice the color he used - Purple - was the color that came to be identified with him. The song and the movie Purple Rain came out decades ago, but even now, a year and a half after he died, Prince is still called "The Purple One" by his legions of fans. 

And now the Pantone Color Institute, the people whose business it is to register all the colors we use and to not the trends of color popularity, has bestowed upon Mr Prince Rogers Nelson his own color.  And - spoiler alert - it's purple!

Laurie Pressman, vice president of Pantone, said it was an honor to help develop Prince's hue.
"A musical icon known for his artistic brilliance, Love Symbol #2 is emblematic of Prince's distinctive style," she said. "Long associated with the purple family, Love Symbol #2 enables Prince's unique purple shade to be consistently replicated and maintain the same iconic status as the man himself."

Yes, people in the business world really do talk like that.

But here is the color that will be forever linked to the man who sang "Ronnie Talk to Russia"(my personal favorite, and one that could be easily revived as "Donnie Talk To Kim" today)...

How many shades of purple are there, anyhow?

I have to hope there is a certain bit of orange in that mix, because, guess what? Tyka Nelson, Prince's sister who seems to be a spokesperson for his estate, says his favorite color was not purple after all, but orange, which nothing rhymes with (purple, of course, rhymes with everyone's favorite pancake topping, maple surple.)

Image result for prince orange cloud guitar
Prince's guitar 
"The standout piece for me is his orange Cloud guitar," Tyka said. "It is strange because people always associate the color purple with Prince, but his favorite color was actually orange."

My favorite colors, if you wonder, are brown and orange - the colors of the Cleveland Browns, but they became the Ravens, so there you go...