I met Aaron Rodgers today in the mall. No kidding. I didn’t know that he was black. I then met him again near Boston Store but he was Asian. No kidding. Still, – one more -I met Aaron outside Victoria Secret and he’s a woman! (Bruce, step aside.) Aaron’s quite a guy in Wisconsin as the Packer season begins and all thoughts and dreams are linear…whether this year or not?
I care as much about the Packers as I do about Hillary’s emails but I do care about the issues pushed aside during these boring weeks of ups and downs from employees at work endlessly talking about people I don’t know (and they don’t know either) while how many social issues persist remain to be persisted. When I belittle employees about their Packer loyalty they tell me that it’s a clean escape from the issues of the day and these are the same people who multi-task at work when can I barely get my one task completed.
But it’s the jersey name that intrigues me on the back of a 20 or a 50 year old. The jersey costs $119.00 or $94.00 for Aarons’. (Please read that sentence a second time!) That doesn’t include the hat; I’m sorry the cap on the head of a bald man who’s only driven past exercise places and promised his wife 30 years ago to attend one.
Identity is a pretty personal and cherished thing in our culture and in our minds. I’d need an agent before I were to wear green and gold with someone else’s name on my back. Identity is hard won and I would prefer people know me as who I am and not some Aaron somebody who replaced the guy we once loved, then loved to hate and then loved again. I can’t remember his name.
Besides, green and gold aren’t my colors. I would, however, wear a black and white jersey if it said “Mel Torme” on the back. At least, I’d be closer to my identity than that Asian guy is to Aaron.