Idiosyncracies

Celebrate uniqueness.  That’s the name of the day today.  Celebrate the little bits that make you you – and I will do so for myself.

(Today, as I cooked dinner, my mind composed myriads of brilliant blog posts which evaporated into the ether – I am so very much more eloquent when my mind wanders)

(This is my writing advice for you:  Be yourself.  As I stated the other day, my blog is disclaimed by fear of the wrong person reading.  What do I truly risk, though?  I name no names.  So, that is my advice.  Find a place where you can write everything.  That raw truth poured from the mind is narcotic to the reading eye.  Pure distilled truth.)

I am a fan of one sentence paragraphs.

I’m going to stop apologizing for that.

(And I like parentheticals, too)

So, idiosyncrasies.  I like mugs.

Who doesn’t?

Despite their ceramic nature, I find them sturdier than glasses.  I also find myself more capable of drinking several different beverages from the same mug throughout the day.  I’ve never quite wrapped my head around water from a mug.  It seems strange to drink plain water from what is a vessel designed for steeped beverages and dairy drinks.  Glasses are for water and juice.

That’s how my brain sees it.

Celebrate the mug!  Man, my favorite bit of memory is sipping a hot mug of coffee on the steps of Nikana Lodge, gazing at the mist rising from Big Blue Lake in the early morning.  Or from a tin mug at the top of the steps above Weber Lake near Wolverine.  Or over a mug in the wee hours in Hillsdale around Grandpa’s kitchen table.

There’s power in a mug, over the slumbering.  I’ve replaced coffee with tea as of late, but it doesn’t matter.  Steam is a good match for the mug – though I like milk from a mug.  It’s the serving size, you see.  Picture piping off coffee in a juice glass – it’s bizarre!

Sam and I received new dishes for Christmas and out went the square/round green monstrosities we were so excited for a few years ago.  Massive square stoneware dishes that looked pretty but were impractical.  Now, we sit and dine on thin, round plates that stack easily and are lightweight.  They look nice.  And the pretty blue mugs are the half-egg shape of mug-related-dreams.

Though, I am a fan of witty mugs.

In my Camp days our mugs were donated and the staff tended to have their favorite.  There was a particular stoneware type with colored striping that I always enjoyed being able to drink from.  There was, too, a bright yellow that brightened the day – filling the washed out low-light of the morning with a brightness like a colorized photo – highlight the yellow.

Despite my dismissal of hipster culture, I love a good ironic mug.  “World’s Best Grandma” is a favorite mug of mine to drink from when at my other-mother’s (the Blog name of my mother-in-law, who is far too wonderful a mother to be saddled with a title carrying such stereotypical negativeness).  I also like the Detroit Red Wing’s mug, which is unironic – just summarily cool.

Glass mugs are a sore point for me.  They are cool looking, and make a highbrow vessel for coffee “drinks,” but I find glass too conductive of heat.  Tin mugs carry the same problem, but have a higher “cool-looking” factor and receive a free pass.  I am also generally camping when tin is involved, so I got that going for me.  But glass mugs are too far from my sphere of comfort.  I don’t like to view my beverage as I drink it.  I especially despise translucent coffee.  If one is going to make coffee and go to the trouble of it all, it should be opaque in color.

Coffee is meant to be a dark, dark brown through which light is scared to venture and, therefore, will travel around.  This produces a fine sheen atop the finished beverage.  An opaque mug, with an opaque beverage which seems to absorb the light around it, filling it with zest and life as you sip.  Drinking light.

Ugly mugs are descriptive and I have seen a few ugly mugs in my day.  Rough-looking dudes who life has beaten up every lifetime.  They look quite at home with Detroit Red Wings mugs.

And lastly, the travel mug.  My inner-jury is out on this.  I have several.  Critically speaking, they limit the aroma during drinking of hot beverages, which is crucial.  But they do make it easy to travel.  Typically, refills are involved.  But so are lids – and lids like to wander off.  Perhaps the lids travel to another planet and have formed their own society, akin to Douglas Adams’ planet of pens.  When the pens versus lids war hits, we will all be losers.

If I had to choose one drinking vessel for the rest of my life, it would be a sturdy ceramic mug.  Blue.  Like the one in my cupboard.  The one I picked out with my wife.

Author: Matthew

A father, son, husband, and fairly rad dude.

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