I like pink. Satin pink, light pink. It’s all good. My work bag is pink. My Starbucks thermos pink. Even my electronic gadgets (Motorola Razr and iPod) are pink. I guess when I was a kid, I didn’t like pink. At least this is what my mom insists. But considering she used to try to dress me in hot pink/fuschia button-down collared silk shirts, it’s no wonder that wasn’t exactly a winner in my fourth-grade eyes.