Blue sky, red barns and another useless fact about love.

I am a collector of "useless" facts. In recent years I've found this seemingly useless hobby to be quite useful at cocktail parties, filling awkward silences, and even building an idea or two for marketing purposes.

The childhood question "Why is the sky blue?" was just the start. In high school, I was amazed when our chemistry teacher brought liquid oxygen to a boil at room temperature. Great mysteries were revealed and I still think that boiling at 70 degrees just plain cool.

This summer, while visiting my family in central New York, I noticed that nearly every barn we passed was red. I then realized that nearly every barn I'd ever seen was, in fact, red. Then the inevitable question: "What's up with that?" Although I'm not a particularly obsessive person, the question nagged at me. I tried my usual method of face-to-face questioning friends, family and even a few strangers, but to no avail. Then, all hail the mighty Internet search engines! What did I ever do without them?

Here's what I found out. Traditionally, the wood would be sealed with linseed oil mixed with milk and sometimes lime. Many farmers began adding rust (an easy-to-find item on any farm) to the mixture as a means to prevent fungus and mold from growing on the barn. How brilliant is that? The rust additive made the sealant red (or reddish at least) — hence red barns. From there, it appears, it was all about fashion and budget. The red stood out next to the traditionally white houses (another hour spent on that, but I still can't find a reasonable answer) and red paint was cheaper in the 1800s, until whitewash came on the scene.

So there's a little bit of info to file away for later use. I don't know about anyone else, but I feel better now.

One more factoid in honor of the close of the U.S. Open and my newfound love of tennis, the term "love" to indicate zero in tennis actually comes from "oeuf," the French word meaning egg. The English mispronounced it, and now we have "love".

If anyone knows why they call that perforated flap on the inside of a return envelope a bangtail, please let me know—even almighty Google has its limitations. Perhaps the folks at Snapple, with their pearls of useless wisdom, can help? — Jennifer, Account Supervisor