Pratt Badges And Me


Why Wear A Pratt Badge


The day unfolded. A return to advocacy. the first in a while. Costa Coffee. Misfortune. Going home. Discovering feelings coming out of me I sent an email to work….

I hate pratt badges.
Those ones you have to wear at conferences and meetings that say your name and where you are from as if you didn’t know, may have forgotten, or in case someone might be interested.
I think its a hang up from special school and convalescent homes where you have all your clothes labelled with your name in case of loss, accident, purposeful leaps from high buildings or in the event of desperation – hanging from a tree – so, the person who finds you can put their hands in your pants and find out who you are. Mom said; “Always wear clean pants in case of accident”.
Anyway, this was all brought home to me tonight when my wife threatened me with labeling my clothes or transfer to a home where my clothes would be labelled so that they don’t go in the same piss basket as all the other older residents.
The reason for this intolerable burden is I’ve lost a second scarf within the month. Senior moments are logging in.
So if you happen to be in the shopping mall this weekend and if you happen to be passing costa coffee (but only if these condition are met) can you pop in and see if they have a colourful man’s scarf, that is largely yellowy orange with blue and black stripes running through it (the scarf not the man). You might just save me from more pratt badges and institutionalisation. You are after all representatives of an independent living centre

many thanks


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