The journey of a red promotional cooler

The cooler was sitting high on a shelf, surrounded by tools, outdoor decorations and who knows what else in my great-uncle’s garage. It was a small, red, metal cylinder-shaped container bearing the name of a popular brand of light beer. 

It was clearly a promotional item, like ones popular years ago, before logos were plastered on every kind of mass-produced product known to man. The cooler was the kind of thing gained by proving loyalty, by mailing in UPCs and paying the shipping cost. Six to eight weeks later it arrived at your door. That’s just enough time to forget it was coming and be surprised by the delivery. 

My uncle was not a drinking man, so there was only one way he could have gotten it – at a yard sale. He was the king of the deal, never able to walk away from something that caught his eye, especially if he could get it below asking price. There were few Saturdays that went by without him having something to show off, some treasure (often in his eyes only) scored from an estate at $1 or less. 

I told him I wanted the cooler after spying it on the shelf during a visit to his house nearly 20 years ago. He wasn’t ready to part with it at the time, so there I left it, a hidden wealth in the horde. Fast forward a year or two later to when I was getting married. Among the gifts from the many family members and friends who helped celebrate the day was the red, cylinder-shaped container bearing the name of a popular brand of light beer. 

“That’s not for storing alcohol,” my great-aunt warned me. 

The cooler accompanied me on my honeymoon. By the time it was in my possession, the latch wouldn’t remain fastened, rust was claiming some of the red paint and the Styrofoam liner didn’t hold ice for long. That didn’t stop me from dragging the thing to parties, get-togethers, or afternoons lounging in a folding chair in the backyard. 

Everywhere I have lived, in every apartment and house, in every city big or small (including my short stint on the Georgia islands) the cooler has been there. And yes, it was often packed with beer, though not the brand emblazoned on the front (sorry aunt Joyce).

The little cooler proved to be quite the conversation starter. Whenever anyone saw it, they wanted to know where it came from. The story of the red cylinder cooler making its way from a yard sale to me, via my great-uncle, became the stuff of legend. My great-uncle, Bobby Garner, is no longer with us. Taken from us, too soon in my selfish opinion, last week.

But, sitting high on a shelf, surrounded by tools, outdoor decorations and who knows what else in my garage is a small, red, metal cylinder-shaped cooler bearing the name of a popular brand of light beer. I believe I’ll hold on to it for a little while longer.

You can reach Kyle Dominy at k.l.dominy@gmail.com or write to 115 S. Jefferson St. Dublin, Ga. 30122.