Forever in Green Jeans

The other day I came home with two bags. One bag held a couple bottles of green fabric dye, the other one had four pairs of white jeans. Lori looked up from reading as I walked through the door.
“Whatcha got?”
“White jeans and green fabric dye.”
“Very funny. No, really.”
“Really. Here, see for yourself.”
“Okay, now for the obvious question…”
“Yes, for heaven’s sake.”
“I had a moment of inspiration when I woke up this morning.”
Her face cinched up like it does when she suddenly gets a migraine.
“You woke up inspired to dye white jeans green?”
“You know, someone has already coined ‘The Green Revolution.'”
“This is about leveling the playing field. Blue jeans have held the high ground for too long.”
“You’re piling up metaphors.”
“If you don’t use ’em you lose ’em.”
“Joel, stop it. Seriously.”
“Here’s the thing. Blue jeans are everywhere. In addition to the actual blue jeans, which you can buy in every size, style, and price range, there are a zillion products made from them. You can get blue jean trucks, blue jean sheets, blue jean perfume… The list goes on and on.”
“And you think you can do the same thing for green jeans?”
“I do.”
“Alright, don’t for a minute think I’m taking this seriously, but since I know how you get, I’ll humor you.”
“Have you thought out your campaign?”
“Down to the ant’s toenails.”
“That’s not a saying.”
“It is now.”
She bowed her head and appeared to be praying. I think I heard her say something like, “Give me strength.”
“Why didn’t you just buy some green jeans.”
“Too hard to find. A company in Israel has some, but shipping charges would kill me. White jeans were difficult enough. After I get these babies dyed, I’m going to hire a professional photographer and get started on the first ad campaign.”
“What about a national spokesperson?”
“Mr. Green jeans.”
“That’s dumb.”
“Well, first off, the only people who remember him are your age and older.”
“I resent that.”
“Have you considered the fact that he’s dead?”
“With today’s technology, it’s barely an issue. Anyway, if that doesn’t work, I’ll get Neil Diamond to change the lyrics to his song.”
“I’m washing my hands of it. Go die your jeans.”
“It’s spelled dye.”
“I stand by the way I’m spelling it.”

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