Whatever Happened To Red?

Abstract

Last week, I had the pleasure—or misfortune, depending on your view—of having to replace two cars. Both of them had served me long and well—nearly 110,000 miles in one case, 157,000 miles in the other—and both of them had chosen the same weekend to simply give up the road race. They died at virtually the same moment. Indeed, over the years I have found that, like matched socks that mysteriously become separated and disappear in the clothes dryer, cars housed together in the same garage have a tendency to give their owners heartaches simultaneously. I soon found myself bereft and bewildered at the car dealership. Exotically named colors swirled before me as I gazed first at the elaborate car brochures and then at the endless rows of new autos. Heather mist metallic. Inza red pearl. Cyclone blue metallic. Eucalyptus green pearl. Frost white. Flamenco black pearl. Vogue silver metallic. Dark amethyst pearl. Milano red. Sherwood ...