Bucket: (n) a roughly cylindrical open container
I set my mind in a twirl this morning thinking about drinking fountains.
If you pause to consider this apparatus, it’s really quite comical. If you’re really thirsty, a drinking fountain is nearly meaningless–plus the fact that they don’t have a napkin dispenser nearby, so you stroll away wiping your mouth on your sleeve.
There’s just enough water that comes out of a drinking fountain to wet your whistle (though I’m sure nobody says “wet your whistle” anymore).
That’s why we invented the bottle–for those occasions when we want more water. Also available is a gallon container if you’ve just done an episode of a Western and have been working in the desert.
And then there’s the bucket.
It is that wonderful container to transfer large quantities of liquid–usually water–very quickly.
It’s the reason that when a house catches fire, nobody requests a Dixie cup brigade. How many Dixie cups of water does it take to put out a fire? No one knows, because no one uses Dixie cups for that purpose. (Once again, I’m not sure anybody still uses Dixie cups…)
I like buckets.
When I see someone walk in carrying a bucket, I know they’re going to do some serious stuff. Otherwise they wouldn’t need a bucket.
They could use a teaspoon.
Or a little bowl.
The presence of a bucket tells me there’s going to be an abundance.
I like abundance … especially when it appears to be coming my way.