Toward the end of today’s Impromptus, I say there’s a bit of PC I can gladly endorse: an end to the term “flesh-colored” for a certain type of crayon. Given all the hues in the world — and all of them are found in our blessed country — it makes no sense for there to be one crayon called “flesh-colored.” Sometimes PC is not PC but common sense and common courtesy.
Anyway, I heard from Peter Salomon, a master of teen horror (author of Henry Franks). He says that, when he opened a box of crayons, he wanted all of them to be labeled “flesh-colored”: because he drew so many “aliens and other creatures, not to mention, of course, all the humans with their wonderful diversity of skin tones.”
I have an item on Adrian Dantley, too, and that has occasioned a surprising amount of mail. A lot of readers remember this NBA great warmly. He is now working as a school crossing guard in Silver Spring, Md. He has told the press he doesn’t need the money: He does want the health benefits, and the job gets him out of the house. One article says that he enjoys giving youngsters “high fives and encouragement.”
A reader of ours writes,
I briefly met the great Adrian Dantley in the late ’70s on the campus of Notre Dame. My cousin and I were attending ND basketball camp and had some free time to explore the campus. During that time we saw AD and he walked straight towards us, offering the same high five he is now giving those schoolchildren. I remember he had a great smile and a genuine quality about him.
A lot of us Detroit-area folk are mad that Isiah insisted we trade him for Mark Aguirre. Then again, we went on to win two NBA championships . . .
Finally, I want to print a letter that’ll tick a lot of people off, because it’s wicked — but I found it funny, in a dark, bitter way, and . . . here goes:
Your comments in Impromptus about the climate brought up an old thought — but surely not an original one. [I don’t know about that.] It must be very difficult to be a liberal and have to pretend static things (e.g., the Constitution) are living and living things (e.g., unborn babies, and the environment) are static or lifeless. Odd times.