Today was a day of remembrance for my squirrel brain.
As I nonchalantly tossed my old, faded “Dunkin Donuts” plastic travel mug with the black, “heat averting bump strip” in the recycle bin, a wave of emotions and memories rushed over me about the simple vessel that has conformed to my farmer grip for years.
It was a good, handle-less vessel with a top that consistently snapped tight without leaking coffee on my (previously ice cream-stained) shirts. I’m not completely sure of its origin; it was the next generation of mug after I ran over my last favorite “Dunky” mug with the tractor after hitting a woodchuck hole.
Back in the day (12 years ago), I was a “Dunky Junkie.” The familiar brown, orange and pink coffee shops sprouted up all around my region. I was a proud DD card holder who swiped his way to copious amounts of French vanilla, cream and sugar. If you bought their signature, environmentally-friendly mug they would give you a little discount which made me feel special. I still appreciate the look and friendly nod from the coffee barista – I was a preferred customer as I passed by the Styrofoam people.
The card and mug were staples in my truck as life shifted to a cashless, swiping society. However, the more I used my fancy, striped “Whirley” mug, there came an ire from customer service. It was too faded to recognize loyalty, and with the pandemic, too risky to refill.
Something else happened to my mug. It and I got priced out of the grab-and-go coffee market. What started out as a convenient, $1.50 coffee is now over $3.50. The faded mug and I just enjoy Dunkin’s French vanilla with our spring water, real milk and no sugar from home now. The mug doesn’t care as long as it can have its morning ritual alongside my wife’s signature red ceramic cup.
As Forrest Gump would say, “We were like peas and carrots.” The mug, full of joe, has been with me, with family and friends, at the writing desk, moving cows, building fences, mowing pastures, on camping excursions, fishing from my kayak, before weddings and funerals and walking on the beach to reflect. It’s familiarity and fit holding the caffeine was like an ole friend who supports without speaking.
The mug has had its days – floating in the lake, dinged by a mower and dropped from a moving truck. It’s been lost several times, used as an insect catcher, ice scraper and occasional disguise for adult beverages. It only has a black and white color palette left with a battle crease in the side and brown funk under its black belt. It might even represent a farmer’s metaphor of life. As many can identify, it has led a full life of adventures, not just holding coffee.
If the old BPA-free, SC-162 mug from Warren, PA, could talk, it might say something like “Keeping you warm with coffee creates memories, and that, my friend, was a good goal for me” or “Coffee and friends makes the perfect blend.”
Change, they say, is constant, and under the Christmas tree laid the next generation of mug to replace my old friend. It also has a brand on it – Yeti®. The army green “Rambler” is made of stainless steel, double-walled insulation with a no-sweat design and magnetic-closing lid. It has three pamphlets of safety, warranty and use instructions which won’t matter much when it gets dented or crapped on by a cow. This farmer appreciates the gift from his wife who knows that it’s more like a Leatherman®, in that it can be used for coffee in the morning and a campfire bourbon in the evening.
Will the Yeti live up to the old “Whirley”? It’s anyone’s guess. What’s intriguing is that 2024 will be the start of a new chapter filled with full mugs, love and plenty of adventures. Rest in peace, Whirley.
by Troy Bishopp
