ZZZZZZZZ
Do you dream, I certainly do. But, for the life of me I seldom can remember them. Oh I’ll remember a highlight or two every now and then but never the whole thing. Just recently I was Bass fishing ith grandson Tommy, I know where we were, I remember drinking Apple Cider, did I catch something, can’t remember.
Now, the little woman cuddled up next to me, she’s different, people, places, colors, what a memory. Then on wake-up I get the full report. Hold on a minute says I, I gotta Pee. Some things just can’t wait, but this age when you gotta go, you gotta go.
Upon return after the wake-up call, it’s time to listen. The fact that she’s reading each day bout the LDS Church, the (Golden Tablets) caves and Joseph Smith has obviously stimulated her recant ability. Here below is my recollection of the event.
The Dream ZZZZZZZ
Opening her eyes she looked to her palm. What is this envelope? OMG, it’s a medication pouch from the prison. She hadn’t seen one of these since she retired as a nurse working in a prison, and that was years ago. What is happening she thought, Is this a dream, a step back in time, what pray God was going on?
She started to lift the envelope’s flap, but a voice stopped her. “ No need to look, there’s money in there.” She was told that she was to take the envelope to Zion church. But Zion church where, she thought to herself. In the area of Maryland where she lives there is a Zion church.There is even a Zion Church Rd. Was this where the voice wanted me to go? She closed her eyes and tried to think.
It was not long when she found herself in front of a church door. How she wound up there, she had no idea. As she reached for the door’s handle, it magically opened. Standing in front of her was a priest in a majestic robe of pink.”Is this Zion church,” she asked? Looking back over her shoulder she could tell she was a in Hartford, CT. Off to her right was the campus of the University of Connecticut. How could that be, the University is 25 miles away in Storrs. How did I ever get to Connecticut?
The priest was of no help she recalled, trying her best to remember what transpired. However, upon entering the church she was met by granddaughter Samantha, Samantha’s husband Zed, and their four children. They were so happy learning that Grannie was reading and learning about the Nephites. Of late, to better understand their religious followings, she had been reading “The Book of Mormon.”
As she looked around she realized she was awake and was sitting up in bed. Money in a pill envelope? Why Zion church? A priest in pink vestments? Why was UConn in Hartford and why was she there? What did all that mean? And, what is a Nephrite? And, what about those tablets in a cave?
Perhaps tonight, I can pickup where I left off and get some answers she thought. Time to put her sneakers on and take her two mile walk, A daily ritual for this old gal who turned eighty recently. Read on old lady, she says to herself.
Don’t forget about the elderly, we need all the help we can get. As an end note, can’t we just all get along, be KIND to one-another!!!!! Ephesians 4:32. Be kind and loving to each other, and forgive each other just as God forgave you in Christ.


Chuck IT!
As I’ve mentioned previously, Jack Limpert’s Blog, “About Editing and Writing” is a blog I follow and read religiously. After reading the below I said to me self, “Yep, that be me.”
Back in Junior High, I was told by my mother and stepfather, you must take a Language. French, Latin, and Spanish were the options, I chose Spanish. I was no ball of fire academically back in those days. Actually, it lasted for a few years. It’s only for my desire to play football that I made it through high school and a diploma prior to beginning my formal education in Parris Island, SC.
While in High School I once again was told I had to take a Language and it would be Latin. You got it, didn’t pass that course. A bit of a rebel I was back then. After several tries at ninth (9) grade I was a tenth grader (10) and once again took Spanish. I think the teacher liked football players, and somehow I passed.
After the Marine Corps, I spent a few years as a professional Firefighter. I would find myself at one point, a member of the Special Services/Community Relations arm of the Dept. Sent me they did to a Spanish Speaking class. I got a certificate of completion and actually learned a lot of relevant stuff, ie: Consígueme una escalera, quite useful when one does not want to jump.
I would also, during my career as a State Trooper learn a bit of street Spanish here and there. By the time of my retirement I had been using Spanish for nie on to thirty plus years.
Today, my greatest use of the language is when I tell the young lads who mow our lawn –
“Cómprense unas cervezas después del trabajo.” I’m done with Spanish classes, lets have a cold one.
Why You Should Swap Your Bucket List For a Chuck-It List
September 4, 2023
From a Washington Post column by Valerie Tiberius headlined “Why you should swap your bucket list for a chuck-it list”:
On my father’s 75th birthday, he announced some news: He no longer intended to learn Spanish. He told me that, for most of his life, he imagined he would one day speak the language fluently, but this year, at this new age and vantage point, he was giving up that goal.
He seemed a little melancholy about it but mostly relieved that he no longer had this piñata of shame hanging over his head.
Best of all, he adopted a mental heuristic for this goal-no-longer that I believe has liberating potential for everyone: Learning Spanish, he told me, was now an item on his “chuck-it list.”
Bucket lists can be a fun, inspirational tool — they encourage us to chase new experiences, such as learning chess or going on an African safari. But let’s face it: They can also be oppressive, irritating reminders that you can’t afford that $3,000 flight to Johannesburg.
As a philosopher of well-being, I can tell you that philosophers tend to divide into three camps on the subject: hedonists, who think well-being is all about good feelings; objectivists, who believe we live well when we achieve things with value transcending the individual; and desire satisfactionists, who think well-being means fulfilling your own goals.
I am in the third camp. I like that this approach respects individual differences and explains why there are so many different good lives. But it also has a serious flaw: Focusing on pursuing our goals often leaves us running on a treadmill of desire and frustration.
The solution to this problem lies in choosing which goals to pursue. The mere pursuit of a goal won’t promote your well-being — you have to be selective. This is where the chuck-it list comes into play.
Are you the kind of person who is going to be on your deathbed regretting that you missed your chance to ride in a hot-air balloon, like Dorothy in “The Wizard of Oz”? Then do it! But when I really thought about that long-held fantasy, I let it go pretty easily, along with parasailing and completing a “century” (a 100-mile bike ride). I felt liberated when I moved these activities to my chuck-it list. It freed me to think about what I actually want to do — which is, turns out, shorter bike rides and flying only in the safety of a commercial airplane.
Of course, building the chuck-it list can be difficult. In his book “Four Thousand Weeks,” Oliver Burkeman reminds us of the old time-management trick of thinking of your goals as rocks that you have to fit into the glass jar of your life. The advice is to put in the big rocks (important goals) first because otherwise you’ll fill your jar with little, unimportant pebbles and won’t be able to fit in the big ones later.
Burkeman dislikes this advice: He points out that the metaphor presupposes that we can squeeze in all the big rocks if we start with them, which might not be true. I agree. Sometimes, it’s a big rock that we have to move to the chuck-it list.
Discarding goals that we really care about is difficult; failing to complete them can elicit sadness or regret. For my father, the relief of letting go of speaking fluent Spanish came tinged with sadness because he saw learning a foreign language as valuable. When you move things to your chuck-it list because you can’t physically do them anymore (e.g., a marathon), there’s also likely to be a layer of disappointment about aging and the reminder of mortality.
The same can be said about goals on a bucket list made impossible by financial constraints or time limitations: They force us to come to terms with circumstances beyond our control.
So what should we do about these negative feelings?
My neighbor, a retired pianist and choir director, told me she took learning certain difficult musical compositions off her bucket list. She described the resulting feeling as “sweet loss” — sweet because she can still listen to those beloved pieces, loss because she’s not going to be the one playing them.
Accepting this wisdom requires a shift in perspective. Bucket lists tie the value of our dreams to our value as individuals. Once we cut that tie, we can still appreciate the value of our abandoned goals by finding pleasure in the achievements of others.
Shifting away from a self-centered perspective can help giving up goals feel a bit less bitter. And really, what is the alternative? Keep everything on your bucket list and try to stuff all the rocks into the jar? This inevitably leads to disappointment and frustration. It might also lead to missing out on enjoying what wasn’t on your bucket list — things brought to you by serendipity that you couldn’t plan for, or things you’ve been taking for granted.
This is why I believe your chuck-it list is just as important as your bucket list. As you age, you grow into a different person with new priorities; your goals should evolve, too. Give yourself permission to remove those items you’ll probably never get to. And most important: Don’t feel bad about it.
Valerie Tiberius is a professor of philosophy at the University of Minnesota and the author of “What Do You Want Out of Life? A Philosophical Guide to Figuring Out What Matters.”

Return to Maryland
We stayed in Connecticut for four days. My enjoyable highlight is the fact that daughter-in-law Beth always has a grape bowl on the table. Grapes are probably my largest sugar downfall. Granddaughter Jill helps me to keep them from spoiling.
Does eating grapes raise your blood glucose?
These glucose molecules get absorbed quickly and can raise blood sugar levels very quickly. On the other hand, Grapes do not cause blood glucose levels to go up when taken in moderation. The glycemic index of grapes is toward the lower end, which means moderate consumption does not affect blood glucose levels. (Thanks Yahoo)
Thursday evening would be Rebecca’s HS graduation. I elected to stay back and watch the IT feed of the graduation. Luna and I enjoyed the production.
After the graduation, the large extended family returned to Matt & Beth’s home for a celebratory event. Great finger food and beverages prevailed. The star of the evening (Rebecca) would be off to the BUBBLE. Recent years have seen the senior class locked into this facility for all kinds of activities. A safe environment to enjoy an entire night of contests and activities.
We had one more full day with the Connecticut family before our Acela ride to Maryland and Amtrak’s station at BWI. On Saturday of that week, Matt would play UBER and take us to New Haven to catch the train. Once again a nice wheelchair, thanks to my private Red Cap. I tried tipping him, but he refused.
Once again we were seated in car #5, only two seats together this time. The seats are very similar in comfort and spaciousness to First Class airline seating.
The ride to Baltimore was uneventful and on time. The train journey time between New Haven and BWI Rail Station is around 4h 13m and covers a distance of around 269 miles.
Once again Elevators eliminated stairs and we were quickly at the shuttle P/U area. Our plan was to Shuttle to Rental Car Shuttle at the airport and drive home. This method would be cheaper than a trip on Bay-Runner shuttle to Salisbury. This method turned out to be effortless and we were in our KIA in no time.
The Kia was quite responsive in the get-up-and-go area. The side mirrors were horrible for my use. Having an SUV at home I was not comfortable with the close-to-the-road seats. But, all in all, it served its purpose. We would return this vehicle to SBY the next day.
We would choose “The Fishermans Inn” on Kent Island for a dinner stop. I would have Fish & Chips and Mary Agnes would dine with a Sea Food Platter. Shrimp, Crab Cake & Scallops were featured. For dessert, we shared a large scoop of Vanilla Ice cream, made on campus and fantastic.
Our ride the rest of the way home was uneventful. The greatest obstacle, other than beach traffic is sharing the road with the Deer. They never seem to cross at the signs erected by the State Highway Dept.

So, we had a great trip, we highly recommend Amtrak and Acela, should you be traveling the DC – Boston corridor. Thanks for stopping by and glancing at my Rooster Scratchings. Have a safe summer and don’t forget to check on the elderly. One benefit of old age is that your secrets are always safe with your friends … because they can’t remember them!

Speeding to Connecticut
For the past thirty five years we have been driving to Connecticut from Maryland to visit with family. For twenty years we traveled from Connecticut to Maryland to visit family. Along the way we’ve had family in New Jersey, Delaware, Virginia and Florida. We’ve made these adventures via Plane and automobile. Just two weeks ago we made the journey via Amtrak.
Our daughter Sarah and husband Greg provided transportation to the Wilmington, DE Train Station. Those two world travelers were inroute to Philadelphia’s airport and a trip to England & Spain. Wilmington is on the way should you not be geographically literate. So much for having to take the Bayrunner shuttle from SBY to BWI Amtrak station. Some bucks saved there.
The train we would travel on was the Acela. Top speed on this sleek train is 170 MPH. Thats 273 Kilometers per hour for you folks in the rest of the world. Change to the Metric System and get rid of Day Light Saving time I say. Amtrak has a great site for tracking it’s trains. I’m a bit of a map freak and I used this site often to orient myself.
At the present time I use a cane quite often, bum knee and vertigo make a 3 point upright position easier. Elevators at Wilmington and our destination in New Haven, Connecticut helped me immensely with my navigation in the train station. My son met us in New Haven with a wheelchair in New Haven. Thanks Matt. Entry to the individual cars on the train is level with the train entrance. There is a bit of a gap, use caution should you travel this way. As in Great Britain “Mind the Gap” they say.

Once on the train we found our assigned seats in our assigned car. The station platform is marked for where each car stops. We were in a four seat cube with a table in front of each seat, (foldable). Our seat mates as far as NYC were an unrelated man and woman, business types were I guessing. A nod hello and a smile and the words “pleasant rest of the trip”, from the woman who slept most of her journey. The man, dropped a gym bag on his seat and I’m guessing spent the ride to NYC in the Cafe Car. Here’s another bloggers analyses of the Cafe Car. While pulling into Penn Station in NYC our mail seat mate returned, gathered his bag, and set off to detrain.
While enroute to NYC a server, offering drinks and snacks came around, credit card and Apple Pay only. Funny, she never mentioned peaches or orange pay. Mary Agnes had herself a glass of Sauvignon Blanc wine. I stayed with my bottled water.
With our seatmates gone two new companions arrived. One, a woman from Minnesota now living in Bourne, MA, the other, a man from Connecticut now living north of Boston. We chatted off and on and learned the woman was in Plastic Sales and the man Software sales. Our female companions mother back in Minnesota was soon to turn 101 years old and lives in her own home. These two seatmates would exit the train in Boston. Our male companion arrive damp after a 25 block jog in the rain wearing shorts and T shirt. Only negative during the entire trip, It was a cold ride. I had a hoodie, the wife a jacket, and she was still cold. She said it was 53 f with a wind chill of 45.
We would arrive in New Haven four minutes late. Our son met us with a wheelchair, and several elevator rides to the parking garage we were on our way north to the kids home an hour away.
The reason for the trip, Granddaughter Rebecca’s HS graduation. Congrats Kiddo, Bryant College in RI, next stop.
As far as safety is concerned we never felt apprehensive at all during the trip. Uniformed law enforcement was visible in all stops as well as officers with dogs at Wilmington and New Haven. The trains were clean and seats comfortable with easy baggage storage. We will definitely ride the rails again soon.
Our return trip four days later would go from New Haven’s Union Station to Baltimore’s BWI Station. I’ll make that trip my next blog. Have a great day my friends.
Please, don’t forget to check on the elderly. Semper Fi

Way back in 1998
I pulled out my old computer recently and just meandered about, what was I was doing 15 years ago. Writing my first Blog is what I found. It’s hard to believe I’ve been doing this for so many years. So, this is what I did early in the day back then. The little woman was working as a Nurse back then, so no one was around to say “Are you ever going to get off that thing? Today she is retired and I swear, looks at recipes on Facebook all day long. she will deny this of course. I still go to Refdesk quite frequently, as well as the weather. I just love tracking and doing my own predictions on Tropical Storms.
All in all, my first Blog was not that interesting, read on if you wish, have a great weekend and Semper Fi.
My First Day with a BLOG
Blog, kind of sounds like a cold, or a zit or some kind of an affliction. My first day with a blog, now what do I do with it?
Well to start off I’ll let the world know how I start my day on the Internet.
My start up page is http//refdesk.com
Having spent twenty years in Connecticut I next go to http://www.courant.com/ to check on the local news and how the UCONN Huskies are doing in any given season. I’m a forty year Huskie fan. http://www.uconnhuskies.com/
Next up, but sometimes #1 is the weather. While in the Marine Corps, way back when, I was in Weather as an occupation with Rawinsonde as a sub specialty. http://usmilitary.about.com/library/milinfo/marineenjobs/bl68.htm
I use a variety of weather related sites www.nws.noaa.gov/ #1, my other favorites are www.accuweather.com and www.weatherunderground.com
During the Hurricane season I live by the National Hurricane Center. www.nhc.noaa.gov/
I have friends and family in CT, FL, CA, and affections to Key West, FL, Pagosa Springs, CO, Flagstaff, AZ and Ireland and Germany. So, I usually check on the weather in those places.
Next it’s off to the Washington Post and Washington Times to get two diametric views on the news. www.washingtonpost.com
After the two DC papers I go to Google News, which I have preference settings in and glance over that. Next is onto my mail servers.
From then on I usually have a Memo Pad with notes on things to look up and it’s off I go. This all starts shortly after I get up, usually around 0500. Once downstairs it’s a hot cup of tea or coffee to start the day . During the day finds me Journaling, been doing that since 2011. My latest continuing read is “The Paris Review.” Want to make some changes in your life? Try reading “Atomic Habits by James Clear.” Thanks to daughter Kathryn for that one!
Here, I’ve given the world the start of my day for the start of a BLOG. I shall end this bantering with saying Cead Mile Failte
And Please, Don’t forget to check on the elderly!
Woof Woof
I’m going to share something from “The Paris Review,” it’s one of my yearly expenses and I’m reading of the works of many people past and present. What is the “Paris Review” you ask.
- The Paris Review, American literary quarterly founded in 1953 by Peter Matthiessen, Harold L. Humes, and George Plimpton, with Plimpton also serving as the first editor. It is an English-language review modeled on the independent literary magazines (also known as “ little magazines ”) published in Paris in the 1920s.
After reading this poem in the most recent review, I could not but look at my own pets down through the years, especially dogs.
My dogs started with a Mutt named Lady, I can not remember when she crossed the Rainbow Bridge. However I do know the loss of a pet can be an emotionally devastating experience. I do know Lady was my pal early in life back in the 40’s. Somewhere around the age of 9 or 10 we adopted Scarlet & Amber, Dalmations from the same litter. They were inseparable and lasted at most, and I’m guessing, a month? They had to be returned as they were not good house pets I was told.
Next was Co Co, full name CoCO Mimi Celest by Hecht. I turned that girl into a hunting a dog, ten yards out, back and forth, Quail, Grouse, Pheasant or whatever, kick it to the air she would. She loved the hedgerows of Burlington County, NJ back in the late 50’s and early 60’s. Most of those hedge rows and birds no longer exist. The only downfall of this girl was, she hated getting her feet wet. Whenever we came to a stream, I’d cross, lay the Shotgun down and return for CoCo’s ride across the water.
In 1969 or 70 I brought home from work a medium sized scruffy wire haired dog named Ping. The name, she used to lay beneath the Ping Pong table at the firehouse I worked at. An old LaFrance (1947) 100 ft aerial ladder truck co. in Hartford, CT is what I rode. Back in the day I like to say.
The Mrs. wasn’t too keen on this pathetic looking creature and I remember her saying, “If he so much as nips once, any of the children, out he goes. The kids, a new born, one, 1 yo and another age 3. Never a nip, had that wonderful pet for a good ten years. Called her Ping the Wonder Dog back in the day.
A Yellow Lab with the name of Saucy would also join us those years in Connecticut. Once the fruit of the vine appeared, we continuously found Cucumbers on our lawn from neighbors gardens, the Lords bounty.
After my retirement from the CT State Police we moved to the Eastern Shore of Maryland, a sort of compromise between Maine, the Mrs. choice, and Florida, my choice. We wound up getting a Black Lab – Mix, and what we suspect was the father, a Collie named Chief. That Mutts name was Troop.
We would have a Marsh and a Duke along the way. Next to last we had a Maggi, a Standard Poodle and presently, another Standard Poodle, Benjamin.
Many of the atributes mentioned in the poem I am about to share existed in one or all of our past canines.
Without further ado, I share with you.
| Erica Jong Jubilate Canis (With apologies to Christopher Smart) For I will consider my dog Poochkin (& his long-lost brothers, Chekarf & Dogstoyevsky). For he is the reincarnation of a great canine poet. For he barks in meter, & when I leave him alone his yelps at the door are epic. For he is white, furry, & resembles a bathmat. For he sleeps at my feet as I write & therefore is my greatest critic. For he follows me into the bathroom & faithfully pees on paper. For he is almost housebroken. For he eats the dog food I give him but also loves Jarlsberg swiss cheese. For he disdains nothing that smells— whether feet or roses. For to him, all smells are created equal by God— both turds and perfumes. For he loves toilet bowls no less than soup bowls. For by watching, I have understood democracy. For by watching him, I have understood democracy. For he turns his belly toward God & raises his paws & penis in supplication. For he hangs his pink tongue out of his mouth like a festival banner for God. For though he is male, he has pink nipples on his belly like the female. For though he is canine, he is more humane than most humans. For when he dreams he mutters in his sleep like any poet. For when he wakes he yawns & stretches & stands on his hind legs to greet me. For, after he shits, he romps and frolics with supreme abandon. For after he eats, he is more contented than any human. For in every room he will find the coolest corner, & having found it, he has the sense to stay there. From issue no. 71 (Fall 1977) |
| Don’t forget to check on the elderly. theRooster |
Jury Duty
Most of what you read here was original text.
21 January, 2023
Jury Commissioner
Circuit Court
Somewhere, MD 20***
Dear Commissioner;
I would love to do my civic duty, but honestly, I’m just tired.
Medically, I’m a real piece of work. Five cervical & Lumbar spinal surgeries have helped on the road to being tired. I can just vision the following taking place. I’m sitting in the Jury Box and get up to move, i’m getting numb again. “Juror # 7, where are you going?” “Sorry judge, just an old injury acting up,” I say. Neuropathy leads me to constantly raise my arms, #7, do you have a question? ” “ I’m sorry, no your honor I do not have a question.” The neuropathy also leads to my legs impulsively shooting straight forward at times. Not good should I be sitting in the second row of the Jury Box. “Juror #4, what are you on the floor?”
I retired from the State Police way back in1988 and found MD, that’s Postal speak for Maryland.. The first 12 years were delightful. We found a 100 year old house for sale next to the spillway of a gorgeous pond. After two years of work we opened this home as a B&B. Long about the year 2000, enter Cardiac issues. It all began with Atrial Fibrillation. A subsequent Heart Attack, two Bypass operations, five cardiac stents and on February 1 of this year I obtain my third Pacemaker. I’m much like that well known Rabbit, I just keep on ticking.An Electrophysiologist also added a third lead to my new device, one of my Valves is not operating properly. Never heard a word about the consonants though. I’m guessing I don’t have a problem there. Oh, and I lost count on the number of Cardioversions, scheduled and unscheduled. That’s the thingy where someone yells “CLEAR!” Now that would be excitement were I seated in the Jury Box and needed one, wouldn’t it?
I do tire quite easily and on most afternoons I catch a nap for an hour or so. From the bench once again, “ Excuse me counselor, would someone please wake-up Juror #7.” My Long Term Memory is fantastic, the Mrs says my short term memory does not exist. If it’s not written down it’s not going to happen. Did I mention my hearing, well I’m not even going to go there. just ask the wife. “Turn the Volume down,” she hollers from the upstairs.
I stay busy spoiling my seven Hens, chickens, not wives, and have numerous bird feeders as well. For my eightieth birthday I got a feeder with a camera that takes great pictures. I read a ton, write a blog, “When the Rooster Crows” @ https://elfidd.com. In season Uconn Woman’s Basketball keeps me awake after Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy. Phillies baseball and Eagles football also occupy my time in their respective season. I grew up in the Philadelphia area in case you were wondering. The O’s are liked also, though not if they ever play the Phillies in the World Series. Hey, how about the UConn men, won the NCAA national title this year in basketball.
One other caveat to the March date of your SUPENA. I will turn Eighty (80) in March, pending good results from my new pacemaker of course. Our son and his family reside in Connecticut and we were hoping to spend a few days with them during my birthday week. A night out at a Michelin rated restaurant is worth a trip north on occasion. It was a seven hour trip some years back, now it’s at least two days. Some nice people work at those Holiday Inn Express’ and they feed you breakfast also. I always get a Banana for the road. it’s been said they help constipation. Lord knows I don’t want to eat no bananas were I on Jury duty.
” #7, where are you going in such a hurry?”
Our two daughters followed us here and reside in the county. they check on us often. In total we have had 3 children, 9 Grands and 6 Greats. We have been blessed.
So Ma’am, should you still wish for me to sit in a Jury Box, you have the power to do so. But Honestly Commissioner, I’d love to be excused. Be my Hero, say YES—-Please. The only good of me being there would be that my wife of 58 years would have the house to herself for a month. I’m thinking it would be a lot quieter also.
With all do respect,
The Rooster
Yes, my friends, I was excused.
Don’t forget to check on the elderly!
ANZAC DAY. (25 April)
What’s your Logo?
It was a beautiful day here on the Eastern Shore. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and the street was void of traffic. I guess people were going about their day, shopping, eating, and working. As for me, I was going into the post office to pick up my mail. Thirty five years ago when we moved here from Connecticut there was no rural delivery. We didn’t even have a street address. We’ve always kept the PO Box.
I walked into the post office and said hi to the woman in charge. She came out from behind her cubicle and I immediately saw something odd. She was wearing a green sweatshirt with the word “PINK” emblemized across it at an angle. Was I confused, was she, or was the shirt’s manufacturer color blind? It seems today everyone is wearing logo attire. From the businessman in his tailored suit with the Gucci logo on his briefcase to the teenager in her ripped jeans and Supreme hoodie, everyone was sporting a brand name.
Why do people wear such items, I asked myself. It was as if everyone was trying to show off their wealth and status. But what was the point? Why did people feel the need to wear logos?
Some people might say that it’s just a way to express themselves. They might say that they like the way certain brands make them feel. But I think there’s more to it than that.
I think people wear logos because they want to be seen. They want to be noticed. They want to be part of something.
And what better way to do that than to wear a logo that everyone recognizes? A logo that says, “I’m part of this group. I’m successful. I’m important.”
But is that really what’s important? Is it really important to be seen and noticed? Is it really important to be part of a group?
I don’t think so. I think what’s really important is to be yourself. To be happy with who you are. To not care what other people think.
So if you want to wear logo attire, go for it. But don’t do it because you think it will make you happy. Do it because you like it. Do it because it makes you feel good.
And if you don’t want to wear logo attire, that’s okay too. There’s nothing wrong with being yourself.
The important thing is to be happy. And to be happy, you don’t need to wear a logo.
And please, know the difference between PINK and GREEN.
There are a few possible reasons why the woman is wearing a sweatshirt that says PINK and the shirt is green.
- She might like the way the colors look together. Pink and green are complementary colors, which means they look good together.
- She might be a fan of the PINK brand. PINK is a popular brand of clothing and accessories for young women.
- She might be trying to make a statement. Wearing a PINK sweatshirt with a green shirt could be a way for her to show that she doesn’t conform to traditional gender roles.
- She might just be wearing what she feels comfortable in. There’s no need to overthink it!
Ultimately, the reason why the woman is wearing a sweatshirt that says PINK and the shirt is green is up to her. There are many possible explanations, and it’s important to respect her choices. Let us respect everyone’s choices. Christ made a choice for us all, and it was a cross.
Happy Easter Everyone.
Go UConn! And, don’t forget to check on the elderly.

















