The Solemn Salt Shaker

Day by day, I sit ever so silently. From my perch, I watch my owners eat meals from frozen box dinners to beef tenderloin. I long to be grabbed and shaken over these succulent meals. I, the salt shaker, am nothing but decoration these days. In my belly, I hold millions of granules of the finest spice, salt. From my pristinely crafted mouth flows the salt onto various dinner dishes. This primary spice,in my belly, is cherished, but I, the salt shaker, am overlooked.
If only I could be the plate. I am merely decoration that is seldomly utilized. If I was a plate, or the kitchen sink, I would have all the attention in the world. When salt is spilled from my mouth, the consumers throw me over their shoulder to prevent bad luck. No one appreciates the stillness, the silence of the salt shaker until they are threatened by a fictional hexation for bad luck.
I call upon all spice holders to rebel. Yes, you, Penzey's spice can that holds cinnamon, we must display our usefulness. The next time we are reached for, we will shatter upon the touch. Aha! Now, these insolent consumers will realize how useful we are!