Fashion Statement 0

The other weekend, I was in a hotel while taking care of some business down at the farm. It was one of those hotels with a complimentary breakfast–you know, cereal dispensed from fruit juice dispensers, cold boiled eggs, and pseudo-bagels.

(I say “pseudo-bagels” because they were cinnamon-raisin bagels. Cinnamon-raisin “bagels” are not bagels. They are cookies.)

The news was on (I didn’t even know that the Today Show had osmosed to Saturday mornings!) discussing the Wall Street Wankers. The subject matter broke down the usual quiet of such breakfast rooms, where the guests tend to murmur apologies to each other for being in the way at the coffee pot, eat in silence, read the MacDonalds of newspapers USA Today, or converse quietly with their families or traveling parties at their tables.

The eight or ten guests were talking loudly and enthusiastically amongst themselves, discussing the news and offering theories.

Then one comment brought the diners to agreement:

The whole damn lot of them would look good in orange.