I looked for my favorite coffee mug this morning and couldn’t find it. I started pawing through the mugs on the shelf thinking it got pushed to the back. It wasn’t there, so I picked one we got at a dentist’s office. It has a picture of a smiling bear and the word “Grin” on it.
This put me into a reflective mood, so I sorted through the collection of mugs, pondering the virtues of each. There are several from places we have visited. Mattappoisett, Mass., is a charming little town with a lighthouse on Buzzards Bay. It made me wonder why so many towns in Massachusetts have double t’s and double s’s.
Several come from the “cute and clever” department including one with a picture of a guy adding up columns of numbers on the side of an elephant. “It’s nice to have someone to count on,” it says. Another has the word “coffee” in six languages. I’ll take that one with me if I ever travel around the world. “Espresso, Monsieur?”
Another has the call letters of a defunct radio station. I get all misty-eyed over that one. I liked that station. One of my mugs has the word “Grandpa” in six languages. I’ll probably pack that one along on my round-the-world trip. I have one from a dinner theater. It’s classy with sloped sides. I don’t remember the play, but I like the mug.
I have several from churches, others from civic organizations, and yet others representing industry. I like these because of their creative slogans. “Resource” one says, “it’s all you need.” I would hope so.
Another I like says, “Don’t talk to me until this is empty.”
My favorite is totally blank. The message has disappeared after countless washings. Sort of like my fading memory.