Or Why couldn't the Signature Series be a different color?

Let me explain why I hate yellow. It's the bees. Yup, those little things that pollinate the flowers and if were to go extinct, theoretically, the world would no longer be able to support life.

It happened in 1980, when I started to hate yellow and the comic books I owned were things to keep me occupied rather than collected. I was sent away to camp for the first time. We were given a list of things we could bring, and when I say we, I mean my sister, mother, and I.

My sister helped me pack with strict instructions not to put anything in the duffle bag that wasn't on the list. My comic books made there way back under the bed. All my clothes were packed together, matching outfits with matching socks. Yes, I had those tube socks with the colors, including my favorite color, yellow.

I didn't want to go to camp. I wanted to stay home in the comforts of my own home. Lets face it, I knew I'd be homesick. My sister reassured me that going to camp would be fun, and time away from mother. Suffice to say after getting driven to the camp grounds I was ready to go home... Which was three weeks away.

About a week later, I was settling in and sporting my favorite outfit. And if you ever seen the movie "Meatballs" that world be a great descriptive account of the way my camp was. My tube socks were pulled as high as they could go. The double stripe of yellow shining brightly. My yellow tshirts and "gym" shorts all matched the same yellow. It's probably the only time I have ever been color coordinated in my life.

I walked past the pool approaching what was known as the hard courts. I can remember the grass, the dips, and the small flow of water that if it was anything more it would be a creek. It might very well have been at one point, when I jumped over the sunken earth, it happened. The pain was excruciating.

I was stung. Not once but thrice, simultaneously. This might have been the first time I ever got stung by a bee, and at the very least it was most assuredly the first time I got stung by multiple bees at the same time. I was instantly in pain. I dropped to the ground and since I was my sisters little brother someone ran to get her while I was taken to the infirmary.

I had to hold ice on the stings, two were under my sock on my left leg, one by the ankle and the other closer to the calf. The third however was the coldest spot I ever held ice on. Suffice to say my sister made her way to the infirmary and I told her I got stung. She asked where. I told her twice under my sock and since I didn't know the word testicles I told her my balls. If I wasn't still sore I probably would have laughed at saying balls to my sister. Being eight and away from home I learned many a new terminology.

Fortunately I wasn't allergic, getting stung by one bee is annoying but three at the same time made me hate the color yellow. I threw that outfit away never to wear the color again, my new favorite color became red, which changed in my later years. To this day I still don't wear yellow, I'm not afraid of bees but the memories still sting, pun intended. And as I typed this out on the yellow note pad that iPhone has pre installed I realize any yellow brought into my home is purely unintentional, much like the signature series labels I have grown to accumulate.

Thanks for Reading

Tnerb

To see old comments for this Journal entry, click here. New comments can be added below.