244 Floral Tribute
Some flowers should be named for diseases. That would comfort the sick and improve the description of some plants.
The first one that comes to mind is the Osteoporosis Violet. It’s kind of hook-shaped, but still has a pretty face. Think of the encouragement this could give to people with this awful condition. Their very own flower and mirror image.
But don’t stop there. How about the Emphysema Cactus? Kind of reminds you that every time you take a breath, there’s this prickly green thing standing there giving you encouragement. It’s learned to live on scarce little water. You learn to live on scarce little air.
How about the Melanoma Pansy? There it sits, it’s splotched little face looking up at you as you await surgery. It’s a bonding experience no skin cancer patient should miss.
Then, there’s the gallstone potato. Another mirror image. And you can be oh so glad your stones are his size. See? There’s always someone worse off than you are.
And what of the Jaundice Tulip? Another yellow fellow to keep you company while the docs work on your liver.
The Brain Tumor Turnip. Parkinson’s Eel Grass.
The Appendicitis Hibiscus? The Kidney Stone Pussy Willow? How warm and fuzzy!
The Alzheimer’s Dandelion becomes something else after it leaves the fly-away stage and turns into an actual flower. But still.
Just think: cut flowers, potted plants, boutonnieres, corsages. The variations are limitless.
It all sounds so unseemly. But wait. Hallmark or FDT or 1800-Flowers will come up with something like this before long. And it won’t be limited to actual flowers, either. The internet beckons.
You’ll get e-cards with lifelike pictures of the flowers and you will (optional at extra cost) find matching screen savers and offers of embroider-by-numbers versions. Beats those velvet Elvis pictures and Dali prints you have on your walls now.
Then, there are book covers, tote bags and magnetic stickers for your car.
And bumper stickers: “I may have a low white count, but my White Rose helps me though the day.” “That black thing in the middle of my daisy is the spot on my lung.”
Why they can even engrave these flowers and plants on your tombstone.
You think the marketing geniuses have covered all the bases? Obviously not. At least not yet.
I'm Wes Richards, my opinions are my own, but you're welcome to them.
(c) 2007 WJR