The instruction sheet that comes with Rodger Lovins' Shaker devotes a single paragraph to explaining its use. I shall likewise devote a paragraph to this review. For $24.95, the purchaser receives the aforementioned instruction sheet with its perfunctory paragraph, a saltshaker, and two crocheted balls. The sanctity of the Reviewer's Oath precludes my revealing the exact method for Rodger Lovins' Shaker, but I can say this: The saltshaker is gaffed to function in the manner of a familiar magician's prop that rhymes with "chlop clup"; one of the crocheted balls is slightly different from the other, but not in a way someone would notice unless that person happens to be a compulsive dissectionist; and when the ball vanishes from within the saltshaker -- because where would one keep a crocheted ball but inside a saltshaker? -- its disappearance is accompanied by an audible "thunk," a sound very reminiscent of the one that happens when a tiny plastic replica of a slice of watermelon is applied to the refrigerator to hold up a drawing made by a precociously artistic child. You might not wish to accept the following bit of information, dear reader, but I can attest to its veracity: The ball does not really vanish. It is actually hidden in the first place anyone would guess when looking at this prop. That very same ball is supposed to make a reappearance inside the shaker in the next phase of the routine, but -- chagrin and vexation! -- so strong is the ball's affinity for its hiding place, no amount of shaking, jostling or slapping can coax the crocheted rascal from its hideaway! Thus are we obligated to skip that phase and move on to the thrilling conclusion, in which the saltshaker and the ball inside it disappear after having been covered with a paper napkin. I'll allow the instruction sheet to describe the shattering climax: "Bring the napkin over the table and crush it into a ball, dropping the napkin on the table. THE BALL AND NAPKIN HAVE BOTH VANISHED!" (Yes, the instructions really say that.) If it were possible to give this product a star rating below zero, I would. Instead I will rely on you, dear reader, to imagine a minus sign in front of the half star.