Of course, the mug is only the container for the coffee, the mere vessel through which the world’s greatest beverage may be delivered to us, and thereby nourish our intellect, boldness, and creativity. The mug could just as easily be a glass, a bowl, or a paper cup.
But because of my coffee obsession, I’ve always possessed a strange affinity for mugs. Each one is like a unique friend, each with its own personality quirks, some more likeable than others.
I realize that it’s an odd quirk, and completely ridiculous. As far as friendships go, you can’t get much more one-sided than an inanimate object. I’m very non-materialistic, and I usually try keep as few possessions as I can—other than books, nostalgic tokens or, as it happens, coffee mugs. But I think Nicholson Baker said it best in his short novel The Mezzanine:
“Also, (coffee) mugs, like car bumpers and T-shirts, have become places for people to proclaim allegiances, names, hobbies, heroes, graphic tastes. Since as a rule you have only one of any particular novelty mug, as opposed to a whole arbor of identical cups hanging from hooks in a white Rubbermaid shelf organizer, you develop a fondness for each mug as an individual, and you try to give even the ones you like least a chance to contain your coffee once in a while.”
So what about you guys? Any other mug-lovers out there?