GRAVETTE — My close relative broke my favorite coffee mug last night. It shattered into a zillion pieces and so did my heart! I was right fond of that mug and now I will have to break in a new partner - a change, and you know how I dislike changes, but this one is forced. The old mug had stains from my years as a young man.

My close relative had scrubbed the insides ofthat mug with all kinds of gritty cleaners and even soaked it in bleach. It was as tough as they come, held its ground and then kept the stains. I was proud of the tenacity of the mug and it gave me the desire to also keep on keeping on, regardless of the grit and grime I had to face. Now, don’t you laugh at me and my mug. A feller has to have an example sometimes and that was mine.

I heard it hit the floor in the kitchen, heard the draw of air into her lungs and then the horrible groan that came from deep inside her. The sounds echoed through the house, and I cringed with dread. I knew something very valuable had hit that dang tile floor.

Yep, that dang tile floor will shatter anything that hits it. I wanted to lay down some nice cushy linoleum and it was about a third as pricey as that tile. Oh, no, can’t have anything that old fashioned in her newly decorated kitchen and, besides, that tile is what she wanted. So, guess what! Tile is what she got,and now my favorite mug is destroyed.

I was trying to make the best of my bad luck and had been out checking cattle and looking at the clouds drifting overhead. The cows were all where they belong, fences were up and gates closed. The clouds weren’t doing their job but I couldn’t do a thing about that, so I figured I’d just go to town to look at the new mugs. I knew the hardware store sometimes had dishes and stuff for the kitchen, so that was my destination.

I met up with a couple of guys I knew and we stood around shooting the bull for about half an hour. I was in a much better frameof mind when we shook hands and went our separate ways. I directed myself toward the sign that said kitchen and even thought about looking for a surprise for my close relative.

There was a whole shelf of mugs, all shiny and of every color in the world. There were tall ones and squatty ones and some with faces and some shaped like animals with their tails making the handles. I picked up a plain, tall and round mug, felt its heft, rubbed it with my fingers and decided on it. Then I turned it over and saw the price.

It is my opinion, and everyone has one, what you drink is important and the vessel is just that, thecontainer. The taste of the liquid will always be the same, always be the same temperature and the same color no matter what the vessel looks like. If you can get your finger through the handle of any cup, the coffee will be fine. I am sure my coffee will taste just fine and I can ask for a new mug for Christmas.

I can maybe save a peach can and put a baling wire handle on it, but I will not buy a cup for my coffee that runs into a double digit figure. Just saying, don’t be so picky, man up and act like you like it!

Bill is a pen name used by the Gravette author of this weekly column.

Opinion, Pages 6 on 07/11/2012