Sky Blue Pink

The first time I ever saw Silly Putty, my mom gave me the little egg, fully packaged, as we got in the car to go to my Aunt Mary’s house in the little doll house down about 30 miles down the road. I might have been around six-years-old. It took me until we got out of town and onto the highway before I got the plastic wrapping around the cardboard off and the egg out.

My mother was good like that. She knew how to keep kids occupied. It wasn’t manipulation, really. It was expert planning on her part. Always it was win-win. She got peace and quiet. We got entertained.

When I finally got the red plastic egg in my hand it took a mile or two again before I figured out how it opened. When I did, I guess I was a little disappointed at the lump of unexciting color. My mom, not one to be outdone, said it was a wonderful color. “That’s sky blue pink,” she called it.

I kind of shook my head and told her I had never heard of that color.
“Oh, but you’ve seen it. Everyone has,” she said. “It’s when the sky goes pink, when it’s still blue. That’s why they call it sky blue pink.”

About then is when she handed me the full-color comics from the newspaper over the front seat to me in the back seat. She taught me how to press the putty on a picture and copy it. Then it was only a matter of seconds before the thought of stretching it occurred. I was busy until the 30 minute trip was over. Actually I was still playing with the silly toy all the way home.

But what stays with me is the color. I still think that Silly Putty is beautiful.

I still think of it when I see the slightest touch of pink among the blue.
“Sky blue pink,” she called it.

I know you’ve never heard of it, but you’ve seen it. Everyone has.

—me strauss Letting me be