30 Days of Handwritten Verse, day 28.
I used to wonder why people would ever pay a premium to wear clothes with conspicuously-placed logos. It didn’t make sense to me that the big name windbreaker made in a remote third world factory should sell for more than the no name windbreaker made in a similar setting (or, sometimes, even in the United States).
A long time ago, I developed a limited set of criteria that would lead me to wear a corporate logo on my clothing:
- It is the best value I could find for that particular item, and no comparable item could be found without a logo emblazoned on it (and the logo doesn’t otherwise offend my sensibilities).
- i.e., the Nike windbreaker in the clearance bin for a price that’s better than any similar quality alternative.
- The brand logo on the item is one I believe in.
- i.e., the logo of a company that does something I admire, such as manufacture close to home, or in a way that is particularly responsible — economically or ecologically.
- I’m being paid to display the logo.
- i.e., the logo of an employer, or any other such entity smart enough to utilize me for advertising purposes.
That’s my basic checklist before I’ll consent to becoming a human billboard. What’s yours?
30 Days of Handwritten Verse, day 27.
Religion isn’t a bad thing in itself. It provides a structure, a template, that helps people follow their faith.
The inherent danger in all religious systems is that adherence to a faith will morph into adherence to the structure that’s meant to serve the faith. When people see the structure as their primary focus, instead of the faith on which the structure is supposed to be based, things can go sideways.
History is full of examples.
30 Days of Handwritten Verse, day 25
In all other matters, feel free to make blind assumptions.
30 Days of Handwritten Verse, day 24.
Our dog has an intense desire to chase what she’s not likely to catch. Sometimes I mistakenly characterize her near futile pursuits as pointless. But that’s mostly because I miss her point.
Sure, she’d love to capture that squirrel or rabbit, but what really awakens her sense of thrill is the chase itself.
And past the moment of failing to acquire her target, once a new target can be seen or heard or smelled, I don’t think the old one haunts her at all anymore.
Sometimes I’m jealous of that.
30 Days of Handwritten Verse, day 22.
It may seem like a grand declaration, but it just as easily applies to those moments (or days) when nothing seems to go right. We’ve all had plenty of them, I’m sure.