COLUMN: Favorite colors, autumn birthdays and a case of mistaken identity

At some point in my life, people stopped asking me about my favorite color. 

As a child, favorites seemed really important. A favorite color is the zodiac sign of youth — I could tell a lot about a person by whether they liked a primary color or an obscure shade of purple.

What about your favorite crayon color? (I’m talking about out of the 64-count Crayola boxes, the big ones with the sharpener in the back. Mine was Midnight Blue). Favorite dinosaur? Tyrannosaurus Rex. Favorite animal? Elephant… or dolphin (every kid in the ‘90s inexplicably wanted to be a marine biologist at one point). 

Such conversations were important as a child. They were the social lubricant of elementary school. But somewhere between age 8 and age 18, they disappeared. 

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I know no one asked, but my favorite month is October. 

I’ve spent my entire life living in the South, enduring week after week of 95-plus degree heat. Once when I was a kid in Texas, it didn’t rain for 84 consecutive days. October was when we first started getting some sense of relief, when night time temperatures dipped into the 50s and early mornings developed that wonderful crisp feeling. 

If we’re lucky, we get a few weeks of trees in brilliant reds and oranges and yellows. And Halloween is certainly the best holiday for parties. 

The real reason October is my favorite month, though, is because my birthday is Oct. 23. My mom’s birthday is Oct. 30. So that means a week of festivities, of cake and ice cream, of presents and decorations.  That’s hard to beat.

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I share my birthday, of course, with my identical twin brother Joshua. We’ve shared a lot of things over the years, and I never really minded. There’s nothing wrong with sharing something with your best friend. 

When I tell folks I have a twin, they sometimes ask “What’s that like?” That’s a difficult question to answer, because it’s the only reality I’ve ever known. 

When we were very young, my mom was a member of a mothers- of-twins club, which meant that all of the kids we knew were twins. I remember the first time we met someone who wasn’t a twin, a kid at a local playground. “Where’s your brother?” we asked. “Where’s your twin?” 

“I don’t have one,” he replied, bemused. 

No twin? What a tragedy! After all, having a twin is a bit like having a superpower. Imagine someone who knows you better than anyone, with whom you shared most of your formative years. Someone who has your back at all times, who always picks up the phone when you call. Who you feel completely comfortable around. Who names their son after you. 

That’s what it’s like having a twin. 

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The next question I usually get about my twin is something like “Do y’all look alike?”

We do. I can’t emphasize that enough. If I left the room, and he walked in wearing the same clothes, you probably couldn’t tell the difference. Almost the same height (I am, after all, like an inch taller and one minute older. Needed to get that on record). Both have a beard (his is usually more impressive). 

There was a brief time in high school when I think he got tired of folks always getting us confused. He mixed things up with facial hair and contacts instead of glasses. I don’t think it did much good. Now that we live 850 miles apart, there’s not many chances to be mistaken for each other.

That is, until I visit him in Texas. In my hometown of Greenville, folks are used to seeing Joshua. This occasionally leads to some pretty odd interactions. Josh is always pretty quick to point out who is who. But I like to let people talk, because it can be funny to hear what people say about you when they think they’re talking to someone else.

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By the time you read this column, I’ll be in Texas. I’m flying to the Lone Star State to spend time with family. We’re going to hold a memorial service for my Uncle Dale, who died this summer, because it’s the first time we could all be together. I’ll see both of my brothers and their wives, my nephews and niece and my parents. 

One of those days will be a designated Twin Day to celebrate our birthday. Years ago we discovered the best way to get each other gifts. We go to a used bookstore like Half Price Books, pick out a pile of books, then swap at the checkout line and buy each other’s stack. Then we get to the car and swap back.  It’s a great way to get exactly what you want!

That’s my favorite day of the year.

Caleb Slinkard is the managing editor of The Melody. Email him at caleb@maconmelody.com.