--I realize it's only a few short steps from spoons or bells or Avon bottles, or whatever else old
ladies like to collect, but I have a thing for coffee mugs.Whenever I visit someplace new, I always feel compelled to buy
a mug – just to make it official.
And,
as is so often the case, I have a very strict set of rules when it
comes to mug procurement.I
don't like novelty mugs, anything with an unorthodox shape, or the
ones made of rubber, or anything like that.No, it has to be of standard construction, with a loop handle
on the side, and a simple design; nothing retina-searing or gaudy.
The
only exception?Occasionally
I'll buy one of the big oversized models, the kind that requires two
hands to lift to your quivering lips, when full.Oh, and pub glasses are also an acceptable substitute,
depending on the situation.
Over
the years I've built quite an impressive collection.But Toney regularly weeds it out (without my involvement), and
moves the so-called excess to the basement.So, I literally haven't seen many of my "pieces" in
years.
And
that includes a former top-favorite: a white "Don't Mess With
Texas" mug purchased in Dallason a weekend so hot I thought my
scrotum was about to explode in flame. Man, I loved that mug…How
much you wanna bet it was actually broken,
and not rotated-out, like I was told?
Anyway,
since I flipped through my Big Notebook of Desperation last night and
didn't see anything I could sink my booger-hooks into, I'm going to
just pick a few random mugs from my collection today, and briefly tell
you the story behind each.And
how's that for thinking on yer ass?Hmm?
Let's
get started, shall we?
San
FranciscoThis is one of the oldest mugs I own.I bought it in on the trip Toney and I took after we were
married, in September of 1993.That’s
right trip,
not honeymoon.I don’t
care for the word honeymoon, because it’s stupid.
Anyway, we’d planned to go to England; that was what we’d originally
plotted from our Saturday afternoon corner boof at Moe’s and
Joe’s, the traditional home of Big Decisions in those days.We’d be married by a judge, or a justice of the peace, have a
great party with lots of alcohol, and fly to London.
But it all got jacked-up when we went to look at houses in a new
subdivision in the ‘burbs, and found one we liked. Somehow, and I still don’t understand how it happened, we
found ourselves making an offer on the thing.I think we were hypnotized by a devious and very skillful real
estate agent…
When the offer was immediately accepted, the floor of my ass nearly
fell out.And our Englandtrip was not to be.We ended up going to San Franciscoinstead, and used a coupon in
the back of one of those giant books of coupons people sell for
charity, and got an incredible deal on a kick-ass hotel room.
In fact, it was a very snooty place and the counter person tried to
screw us out of it.He
talked like Thurston Howell, and found the whole thing to be quite
distasteful.I was about
to go over the counter on that prick, and was still in good enough
shape to do it without blowing the full ass out of my pants.
It turned out to be one of the best weeks I can remember.We walked all over the city, drank incredible microbrews in
fantastic bars, ate great food in interesting restaurants, and it was
as close to perfect as perfect ever gets.
Which is why this mug has never gone out of rotation.
Oh, and in just a few days we’re finally
going on our trip to England.Only fifteen years, and three houses, later.But who’s counting?
The Baseball Hall of FameCooperstown,
NYis one of my favorite places in
the world.It has a
classic small town feel, is snuggled beside a beautiful lake that
miraculously changes colors, and is home to the Baseball Hall of Fame.
I love old baseball; not so much current baseball, but old
baseball.The players are
genuine heroes to me, and I never get tired of visiting a place that
treats them with the respect they deserve.
About once a year I can feel Cooperstown’s pull, and end up calling
Steve.I ask if he’s up
for another pilgrimage (that’s what we always call it), and we make
our plans.A couple of
times Steve has said, “Man, that’s weird!I was planning to call you, and ask the same question.”
I went with Toney and the boys once, but they didn’t receive the
magic.They have no
emotional connection to the game, so it was just shirts behind glass
to them, probably like an overly formal Burlington Coat Factory, or
something.
And when I’d say, “Yeah, but Ty Cobb, freakin’ Ty Cobb, once
wore that shirt…” it meant little.Probably like when I went to the Football Hall of Fame in Canton:
Yeah great,
another pair of muddy cleats.…Do
they have a hotdog stand in this bitch?
So Steve and I go on our yearly pilgrimages.
When I bought this mug I was worried about money for some reason.I can’t remember the details, but was in a situation where I
was sweating every penny spent.And
I actually debated the purchase of such an extravagance.
And while I was trying to decide on whether or not to fork over $8,
Steve was going through the gift shop with one of those Sam’s Club
flatbed shopping carts.I
might have some of the facts mixed up, but I think he actually bought
the disinterred skeleton of Walter “Big Train” Johnson on that
trip.
But dammit, I also got my mug.
Warner
Bros.I worked for these folks for seventeen years: ten in the music
(CD) end of things, and the last seven in video (DVD).
Last
January they summoned me to the West Coast for a series of meetings
and training sessions, most having to do with a new computer system
they were scheduled to launch in the summer.While there I was wined and dined, and treated like a king.Or at least a reasonably well-liked vice-king.
Then, shortly after returning
to Scranton, they let me go.Nothing personal… a business decision… restructuring…
etc. etc.The whole thing was
quite baffling.Had they known
their plans when I was in Burbank?Seems likely.So, what
the hell??
On
that trip I had lunch in the commissary, on the movie lot.
When I lived out there, before 9/11 and high security, I was allowed
full access to "the lot," and could eat lunch with the stars
whenever I felt like it.The
food was good, and I never quite got over the coolness of the whole
thing, so I was over there quite often.
I saw George Clooney buying a coffee one day, stood and watched most
of the cast of Friends
play basketball (and smoke cigarettes) at an outdoor court, almost got
ran over by Drew Carey driving a convertible Porsche, and saw a
massively pregnant Adrienne Barbeau waddle past, with a bra strap the
size of a seatbelt hanging off her right shoulder.
And there were plenty of other "sightings" as well.One day I went to work and was handed an invitation to a
lunchtime concert by Alanis Morrissette, which was held on a street
inside Warner Studios, designed to look like a 1970s New York City slum.It was a fairly surreal four years…
But
on the January visit I didn't spot any stars.I just had an uncomfortable lunch with some people I barely
knew, and we started walking back to the office. A woman said she
wanted to stop at the gift shop, so I followed her inside.
And that's where I bought this mug – on the We Feel Guilty About
Shitting Jeff Out Like Yesterday's Breakfast Burrito Tour '07.
For
a long time I couldn't use it; every time I saw it on the shelf I'd
get almost sick to my stomach.But
all that's passed now.
I
have no animosity whatsoever toward The Company; they treated me well.I do have a bit of animosity toward a particular person there,
but it's not something I'm going to go into.And even that's fading fast…
The mug is a reminder of past adventures.I got to do a lot of remarkable things because of those two
jobs, and I'm happy I had them.
Now
it's on to new experiences!
Sands
CasinoSometimes relatives give me mugs, from places they've
been.Like Hawaii or the Bahamas, or whatever.They know of my "thing," and pick them up, here and
there.
Yes,
it's all very thoughtful, but I simply cannot use mugs from places
I've never visited; to do so would be a clear case of slurping under
false pretenses.
This mug borders on such a scenario, because I didn't actually buy it
in Vegas.I bought it at a 99
cent store in Valencia,
CA.After the famous casino (former home of Sinatra's Rat Pack)
closed, their mugs and ashtrays could be purchased all over Southern California, at closeout prices.
The
99 cent store where I bought my artifact was a thing to behold.It was huge, roughly the size of a 1970s-era supermarket.And it had a meat department, if you can believe it.I never had enough courage to actually sample any of their
terrifying blood-red wieners, or their packages of baloney with
Russian letters, or whatever.But
they had 'em.
The only reason I could buy my Sands mug with a clear conscience was
because I'd been to the casino before it closed.So I claimed a loophole.
When I worked on the music
(CD) side of things, there was a boss's boss who loved Vegas (and was
eventually murdered there).He
was all the time scheduling meetings at Treasure Island, so I got to spend a lot of time
in the city – in bite-sized two-day chunks.
On
one of my visits I walked around (semi-drunk) downtown, and went in
and out of the old original casinos.I
thought that was just about the coolest thing ever.Some of those places are like passing through a time warp, with
the heavy red curtains and whatnot. I had a great time exploring that
night.
Another time I was with a, shall we say, well-fed female co-worker,
and we ended up in a virtual reality ride inside that casino shaped
like a pyramid.It was made to
look like we were riding in a freight elevator, and
then it starts falling.The thing was slamming and shaking, and it looked like closed
elevator doors were zipping past.And
with all the heft in that thing… man, talk about realistic!
And very early on, possibly the first time I was ever in Las
Vegas,
we went into the Sands Casino.It
was a bunch of us from work, and we were all straight-up drunk.In fact, it seems like every memory I have of that city is cast
through a gauze of inebriation...
In any case, I now feel justified in using my 99 cent Sands coffee
mug, and do so on a regular basis.It’s
been in the starting lineup for many years.
From time to time I might tell stories about other mugs in my
collection, but today I’m all mugged-out.
