top of page

No need for rose-colored glasses...


I’ve been gone from Ventura County for almost thirty years but will never forget Ojai’s legendary Pink Moments there. The Shangri-La-ish happening occurs as the fading sunset creates a brilliant shade of pink for several minutes on the Topa Topa bluffs—over 6,000 feet above sea level. The mountains are airbrushed a Day-Glo pink in the memorable, magical moments.


In the past days, a series of pink coincidences have floated into my life, making the serendipity impossible to ignore.




“Looks like Pepto Bismol,” a person next to me waiting at the crosswalk commented about a building going up at the corner of Gold Finch and Washington less than two miles from my house. Not an original opinion—I’ve heard it from dozens of concerned neighbors and onlookers.




To me, it’s a much softer shade of pink, closer to the airy cotton candy we all loved as kids. Didn’t we?


Like it or not—and there is great controversary—you can't help notice a high-rise pink moment.




One night recently, we met our friends Suzy and Bob for dinner. We hadn’t been together for five weeks since Suzy fractured her ankle. “She’ll be in a wheelchair, but I’ll manage her fine if we go nearby,” Bob assured. We waited on the sidewalk in front of their building, eager to be with our pals after so long. The door swung open, Suzy appeared smiling and resplendent in her linen attire perfectly complimented by her shocking pink cast! A pink plaster moment.


Blood-pressure-rise moments happened day before yesterday when my laptop, where I do a great deal of my writing and play Wordle and Spelling Bee, crashed. After a disappointing session with the Genius Bar, I stood in line for ten minutes at the Apple Store entrance. “Don’t suppose anybody would like to sell me a new laptop, would they?” I joked to the attendant.


Another twenty minutes waiting for a salesperson, who sealed the deal and sent me to the middle of the store to sync, download, update, whatever…all those things I would have difficulty orchestrating on my own for my new purchase. “Just head over to Erin,” my instructions which I followed. A wide welcoming smile beamed beneath a bright, almost neon pink beanie.





I left with an updated new laptop, thanks to Erin in the fluffy pink beanie—a pink techie moment.




On my tour of the Georgia O’Keeffe-Henry Moore exhibition at The San Diego Museum of Art later that day, another pink moment. Standing in front of O’Keeffe’s Mule’s Skull with Pink Poinsettia, a guest commented, “Her work is so iconic I’d know it anywhere.” I agreed, but I pointed out the pink poinsettias. I went on explaining the artist’s career was long and varied, but the theme for which she’s most famous is flowers. However, she rarely painted poinsettias, and this may be the only one done in pink. Not only are the flowers deep pink, but the vertical canvas features pink hills with a large mule’s skull hovering in the sky over the landscape. I love this exhibition and I experienced an anxious pink moment realizing it will end August 27.

Mule's Skull with Pink Poinsettia, 1936 by Georgia O'Keeffe

I went shopping after my tour and purchased a new pillow for my outdoor space. Company coming the following day. You guessed it—I picked a square pillow with shades of greens and aqua background and a huge, stylized coral-ly pink blossom splashed across the plumpness. A cushy pink moment.


Yesterday, Gail and I headed to Jimmy Carter’s after our walk for a Mexican scramble and cinnamon coffee. “It really upsets me,” she declared banging her coffee cup down on the table. We were discussing our weekend plans and she complained zealously about the upcoming double release of summer films, Barbie and Oppenheimer.


“It troubles me that something so frivolous is combined with something so catastrophic. A toy plastic girl in the same category with the development of an atomic bomb?”

Before I could slurp my coffee or get a word in, she railed, “It’s so wrong!”

I refrained from pointing out that the movie-going public has linked them together. Like they belong. Or something like that. I’ve heard it referred to as Barbieheimer. Or Oppenbarbie.


I won’t see Barbie, but am engrossed in the Pulitzer Prize winning biography, American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer by Kai Bird and Martin J. Sherwin, that I will definitely see Oppenheimer!



An errand after my walk with Gail brought about the wildest pink moment I could imagine. I parked and headed into the store, stopped dead in my tracks at the Tesla in the handicap spot. Pepto-Bismol pink on steroids! Not only that, the steering wheel—solid rhinestones. And, if that wasn’t garish enough, the Tesla emblem tackily but sparkly emblazoned with rhinestones too.



An over-the-top pink moment.




Which brings me to yesterday evening. Friends and family at my house.

It’s the season, and I served deep pink fresh watermelon in my fruit kabobs. Gail and Marty brought a bottle of wine. Pink Rose.


There will be a sipping-pink-moment very soon.


Enjoy the pinkness ...



 

Something to behold , awesome. Bucket list ❤️🩷mp


Tickled pink over your latest blog, Marilyn! All our family girls are having a Barbie Happy Hour and attending the movie together (ages 16 - 81) wearing PINK!

Please keep sending your delightful and uplifting stories,

Your Dallas friend: Nancy Cates

Recent Posts

See All
bottom of page