People always tell me that inanimate objects
that come to life are never going to last, but look at me,
still going strong. Especially ‘cause I’m a kettle. We have longevity.
Who else is going to blow steam for “Teatime!” on the radio?
When Mickey needs to save the day how else can he create
a contraption that helps him escape, except one that uses steam?
And where does he get that steam? From a kettle! That’s me!
I’m telling you it’s a great world. Too many people see the down side.
I could focus on how my backside is all burnt and black from
too many years sitting on the hot seat but that would be missing
this fine chrome shine that is a result of careful polishing from many
a tender young spoon, or the rarest of candelabras. I’m not picky.
You have to remember to sample life’s finer moments.
Everything’s not just things.

How I got the name is an interesting story. I’m sure you’d love
me to tell you. Well, I grew up in a tough neighbourhood in New York,
Hell’s Kitchen, perhaps you heard of it? Yeah, well, all us young bucks …
we were called bucks as that was how much we cost — you see? I’m
expensive! … anyway, things were hot in the kitchen and tempers
were always flaring—fights all the time, forks and knives—you know,
gang stuff. Any rate, one night, this knife gang decides it’s time for me
to go down. Literally, go down. They’re trying to force me off the counter
onto the floor where they can go to town on me. I’m over the edge, I’m done,
no one’s coming to help me. I see this mop handle. This is no puny wooden
mop handle; it’s industrial grade steel, baby. I grab that thing, and I … well,
I guess it was me who went to town. Afterwards, a couple of knives can’t
be straightened out, they’re tossed; a whole bunch have lost their edge.
No one says anything about it. After that, everyone calls me Mop Handle.
No one gives me any trouble, and that’s when I think, luck like that,
I should be in the movies.

Yeah, it’s surprising you haven’t mentioned the difference in my name.
You know, most of us have the same letters to start our names, it’s that
illiteration thing, but not me! when I come out here I introduce myself
as Mop Handle, that’s what I call myself. It makes me stand out.
People love it. I tell some jokes, they remember me, “I’m Mop Handle!”
My agent tells me not to change a thing. It’s my stage name as well.
Not many people can brag about that, I tell you! See, you’re laughing!
That’s my trick, I make people laugh and they like me. Unforgettable!
That’s me!
<Mop Handle’s portrait copyright Lianne Côté. You can visit Lianne at Thank you Lianne! Thank you Mop Handle for sitting still! wm>