Ruth is a Tegestologist. She hasn’t always been one. Her compulsion began like most. She had one and then another. She could have walked away, but she chose not to. Addiction is difficult to handle on your own and there are no support groups for Tegestologists.
She came down with the affliction twenty-five years ago after a night at THE BOB, AKA Big Old Building, in Grand Rapids. It was a new venue, and she was attracted to the name. We didn’t know it, but by the time she walked out the door, she was hooked. Once she started, she didn’t have the power to quit. One led to another, and when the kids became aware of her compulsion, they fed her more and more. Some of her friends contributed as well. If the server in a restaurant or bar doesn’t supply her, she’ll come right out and ask for one.
Some might call her something else, but that’s the name you give to people who like to collect beer coasters. Tegestology is a term coined from the Latin word “teges”. It refers to a mat and is defined as the practice of collecting coasters. You would actually be quite surprised to see how many Tegestogists are out there. It’s not the hardest thing to collect, as beer coasters are available in most bars and honkytonks.
She collected dozens when we attended our son-in-law’s performances in California, Florida, and Michigan. She collected several more when we started following our daughter-in-law, Lindsay, AKA Rozlyn Heart and her singing career. Ruth’s written notes on some to commemorate their addition to her collection while others have just been tossed in the pile. We’ve got hundreds in each of our homes and there’s no end in sight. I expect she’ll add hundreds more.
Fortunately, she hasn’t had to drink a beer for every coaster in her collection. She’s president of the short-hitters club. She’s a one and done kind of gal, so requiring her to drink a beer to receive a coaster would have placed a huge damper on the project. She’s content to sip on a glass of water with a lemon.
I’m happy Ruth is a Tegestogist. She could have been a Labeorphilist, collector of beer bottles (too much space), or a Sucrologist, collector of sugar packets (possible ant infestation). I had a fraternity brother, Mike, who collected beer cans. He built a wall of aluminum in one of our apartments that rivaled the great wall of China. I didn’t know it at the time, but he was a Breweriana. Heck, my mother was a Deltiologist and she lived to be ninety-three.
More about that later.