Color-Coded World and The Yellow Fellow

Brazil is big into color-coding. Groceries for instance. Cold items go in a blue bag, cleaning supplies in a yellow bag and non-cold food items in a white bag. And uniforms. Everybody wears a uniform--for school, for work, for soccer on the beach--and every uniform has it's own color, of course. Doctor's wear white. Always. Whether on duty or not. Color is everywhere. In the flowers, the fruits, the linens hanging out to dry on so many balconies. But Weston sees only yellow. He has two yellow shirts that he adores. He insists on drinking the tea that comes only out of the yellow box. He'll fight anyone in the family for our one predominantly yellow plate. He prefers Ruth's school pencils to his box of colored pencils because, you guessed it, they are all yellow. We went out to eat last night at a little restaurant around the corner. Moments after we were seated near a yellow wall and across from a yellow beverage cooler, he exclaimed, "They have all the colors here, but I really love the yellow." Everything he spoke of then was in relation to it's proximity to "the yellow." At least he's man who knows what he likes.