a color story: orange gas filler

Inside a cramped 100-ish passenger airplane, the vehicle stayed put by the docking station. Not to the extent of claustrophobia, my posture suffered from the constricted space. The taller passengers immediately stood up once a soft signal on the intercom announcement. I believe the plane staff referred to the first class. In the meantime, I had to distract myself from the thought of getting up as a window seater. The thought of the bouncy landing only lasted temporarily- it didn’t help to ponder about the ‘what if’. I turned my head left. The orange gas filler tank made an impression.

With the words “Million Air Gas” and graphic designs alluding to the fashion label Armani Exchange, I never made the connection between fuel and premium branding. Fuel had a utility underlying. But with the rising gas prices — which probably affected plane fuel — I saw my plane trip as a discounted flight. The traveling economy was playing the long-term game. Could it rebound from the pandemic’s devastation? Only time will tell.

Continuing on, I got out of the airport, found my en-route bus, and my brother welcomed me with ice and beverages at the hotel. He knew how much I loathed humid weather. I felt lucky for his compassionate action. My view on the weather altered into a free spa natural-sauna session. The visit to the coin laundry was inevitable.

At the intersection of Martin Luther King and Guadalupe road, the hotel was located in the northwest section while my day trip exploration was directed North-East. I found myself in the heart of the University of Texas. Even with my preliminary research, I didn’t know the large state University of Texas camped in Austin. I had a preconception of a hipster vibe through the lens of Linklater movies like Slacker.

What caught my distasteful and non-hip view was the grandiose over-the-top water fountain with the bronze Roman sculptures? Was this a place of education or a tourist attraction? The strong horticulture maintenance program also alluded to a place of resort. I couldn’t complain about this aspect with my strong affinity for gardens. A place of historical significance for Texas required a strong awareness of nature to back up its foundation. I laughed at my quick change of views on the campus once it appealed to my exquisite senses. Do parents who drop off their kids at the campus think the same? Did they see the fountain as a premium expense or a necessary distraction to cool off from Austin’s weather? 

Again, I saw orange. It looked familiar and once I saw the longhorns as the logo, I felt a certain connection. The university’s brand had made a presence in my Toronto life. This color notion reminded me of my time at Western University where the color purple oozed out in every corner of the campus mostly through our apparel. I saw a bronze plaque that discussed the significance of how the attitude towards education symbolized the trademark burnt orange at the state University. This seemed like a far stretch. But, what do I know as a wandering pedestrian? I wasn’t a student nor an alumnus. The colors should mean nothing to me. 

Like the plane fuel, I saw orange in a premium light. The romantic past of post-graduate education as a utility seemed to disappear once I witnessed the colossal campus sports stadium. 

My notion of a hip-town was not apparent during my first exposure to the city. Or maybe the city deserved bigger planes — the poor posture appealed to my naive and immature thoughts.