Just peachy, thanks...

It seems you can't go anywhere these days without hearing about the upcoming disengagement. Everybody's talking about it, and passions are running high on both sides. One of the more unusual aspects is the implication associated with the color orange. All of a sudden, the simple act of getting dressed in the morning has turned into a complex ideological issue. What to do? Relegate that favorite orange top to a pile in the back of the closet, with hopes that it will still be in style once all is said and done? Wear it and either hope that nobody notices, or prepare for the inevitable barrage of questions as to where your allegiances lie? Decisions decisions.

My friend T has a creative solution. When I chided her as to her choice of trouser color, she did her best to convince me that they weren't actually orange, but rather peach. I didn't buy it, and neither did the other people who queried her on the same issue. If this is how she chooses to deal with the issue, well, I can hardly fault her. What's a girl to do when her favorite clothing color has suddenly become the pariah of the crayon box? Well, I did a quick comparison between orange and peach and, well, sorry T, but you're wearing orange. Though maybe it was closer to bittersweet, but peach, it definitely was not.

I am not an orange person. Never have been, and given what it currently represents, I don't see myself becoming an orange person at any time in the near future. Don't know what I'll do if the settlers suddenly decide to adopt forest (hunter) green, black, indigo, or any other shade of blue. Of course, my non-existent dilemma pales in comparison to that of the cellular phone company Orange, which has a large client base here. Perhaps they should change their name to Peach...