Hershey’s, part 1: The Great American Chocolate Bar

It’s gotten cold recently, and this week, I’ve been thinking a lot about chocolate. On Monday night, J had a student group (the philosophy club, actually, since he’s the faculty advisor) over for a cook-out and s’mores over a fire. The person who’d donated the s’mores fixin’s brought us none other than Hershey’s chocolate. Coincidentally, on that same day, I broke out my cherished Hershey’s sweatshirt that my brother bought me a few years back when he worked for “the sweetest place on earth.” J also sported his Hershey’s hoodie for the cookout, to his students’ delight. (Remember that I grew up close to Hershey, PA, so the connection to the chocolate is, for me, primarily a connection to place.)

These two occurrences–eating chocolate and wearing the Hershey’s sweatshirts–not only got my favorite childhood jingle stuck in my head (if you’ve been to Chocolate World as often as I have, you know the song) but it also prompted me to save a blank blog post with the above title. (I do this when I have a blog post idea but don’t have time to write about it just yet.) I was going to write about all of the warm fuzzies I feel when I eat Hershey’s, about how it’s way better than any fancy European chocolate because it’s so rich and smooth and doesn’t burn your throat, how I can sing the entire song, how strangers in airports talk to me when I wear my sweatshirt because chocolate makes everybody happy… Quite frankly, there were lots of great connections to community. *sigh*

That’s what I was planning to write about on Monday night, and it would have been a lovely post.

Throughout the week, I ate a few pieces of Hershey’s, snuck from the refrigerator where J hides all chocolate goodies from himself. Then Thursday night, J had another group of students over (theology reading group)  to use up the rest of the s’mores stuff. As we were chatting about the s’mores and my love of  Hershey’s, J told me about one of his fellow professors being surprised when a student from the first s’mores night referred to J as “Hershey’s” as they passed on campus. This professor looked at J, and said, “Hershey’s? That’s blood chocolate.”

[stay tuned for part 2]

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