Holy Golightly: “Listen. You know those days when you get the mean reds?”
Paul “Fred” Varjak: “The mean reds. You mean like the blues?”
Holly: “No, the blues are because you’re getting fat and maybe it’s been raining too long. You’re just sad that’s all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you’re afraid and you don’t know what you’re afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?”
Holly: “When I get it, the only thing that does any good is to jump into a cab and go to Tiffany’s. Calms me down right away.”
Just like last year, I visited sweet little Maya for some birthday pictures. This year she turned two. Terrible two’s jokes aside, Maya was not in the mood to be smiley and playful for her birthday shoot. We tried everything. Her bright pink jacket and perky pigtails didn’t do the trick. Bouncing and kicking a cheerful pink ball didn’t crack a smile. We even brought out the big guns with a shiny pink bicycle but she was barely amused. I don’t think she was sad at all. Just a case of the mean reds. Perhaps what Maya needed instead of pink was a little blue box! I kid. I kid.
In the end, what seemed to suit her best was relaxing in her living room and playing with the record player. Maya and I are the same like that. A needle on the record and a snuggle on the couch on a chilly autumn morning is exactly what I’d want too.