Hey, y’all! Just sittin’ here on a wicker rockin’ chair whittlin’ a pokin’ stick enjoyin’ myself a mint julep, trying to stay off this doggone heat. Alright, that’s about as much Southern accent I can bare to write. Don’t get me wrong; I love a Southern accent. My mom, my little sister, and ¾ of my family have a drawl, but writing in one is like pokin’ a dead possum—it’s only fun for about 30 seconds.
But you know what’s fun for more than 30 seconds? Drinkin’. And you know what makes drinking even more enjoyable? Shakin’ the shit outta that drink. It gives boring old flat liquor a burst of effervescence, and it automatically makes you look fancy—but not too fancy, thanks to the shabby chic Mason Shaker. And I gotta tell you, I really like this thing.
I know it’s a really smart design and the built-in measuring marks make mixing up a cocktail a breeze, but that’s not why I love this shaker. It’s more than that; it’s an intangible familiarity. It reminds me of my grandmother, of sitting in the grass in her backyard in Alabama on a hot August afternoon drinking sweet tea out of a jar. Trust me, I know how corny this all sounds, but it’s true. And that’s what I like about the Mason Shaker. It doesn’t hide behind the pretentiousness of shaking a cocktail, ‘cause hell, we know we could stir it and it would taste almost as good. But sometimes what we want isn’t the thing itself. It’s what it stands for, where it transports us. And for me, the Mason Shaker takes me to a place where everything is right, where the only thing that matters is sitting next to someone I love, running my toes through the soft summer grass.
And for less than $30, I’ll buy that memory every chance I get.