The Pee Pocket and Its Relevance to My Blog and An Exit Off The 405

Not a day goes by that I don't get some kind of marketing query from some misguided person or company who thinks my blog is somehow influential enough to warrant me posting about the object or invention or service they have to sell. I'm not influential enough, apparently, to convince neurologists to stop prevaricating about the effect of cannabis on refractory epilepsy, but damn if this might be the place to make THE PEE POCKET  best-seller. In the query email, I was told that THE PEE POCKET is geared toward athletes, travelers, the elderly, parents of young girls, pregnancy and -- oh, yeah, here's why they found me in the search engine -- the disabled.

Here's a picture of THE PEE POCKET:

You can use it while you're standing up ya'll! Seriously, if this product excites you, go on over to the site and learn more.  I was almost tempted to show it to The Brothers before I came to my senses, but it did make me remember all the times I drove back and forth from Los Angeles to San Diego with Baby Sophie in the back of a rental car to visit the osteopath. That was in the waning days of the last millenium when I lived in New York City but did these six-week stays in southern California by myself with the baby -- sometimes in a motel, sometimes with friends or relatives. I actually drove the highways by myself with Sophie in the back seat, at night! We had no phones, then, ya'll! No GPS! Sophie was a sickly thing back then and even when a toddler couldn't walk or do much of anything. She was so drugged up and irritable that she also never slept (neither did I), even in the car (neither did I). When I had to go to the bathroom, I had to carry her in with me, and one time I had an overwhelming urge to pee and pulled off the highway on some dark, godforsaken exit where I quickly realized that I wouldn't make it to the bathroom by the time I unbuckled the sleeping (finally!) child from the carseat, made my way to the bathroom, unzipped my own fly, pulled down my jeans -- well, you know the drill -- not to mention the pitch dark, the flickering flourescents, the whole south LA scene at a dark highway exit. How I could have used THE PEE POCKET in that moment! Instead, I grabbed Sophie's bottle, dumped out the contents, which was probably the nasty, thick ketogenic formula we were trying at the time, and proceeded to pee right inside of it. I'm not going to tell you how it all turned out, because this is not that kind of blog. Suffice it to say that I tossed it out the window into a metal garbage can and scratched off in my Focus and back onto The 405.

Whew. Like I said the other day, Cast my memory back there, Lord. Sometimes I'm overcome.