Rare is the Christmas gift that fills a desperate need, is eminently practical and has the added bonus of providing a few guffaws—all at the same time.
Even more unlikely, in the pressure-packed atmosphere of trying to get the perfect gift for each and every person, is the spouse who would reject the idea out of hand, without even hearing her husband’s rationale.
As long as we’re talking about the unthinkable, I suspect that even the wildly popular Netflix series “Stranger Things” couldn’t script a scenario in which a female spouse would be so suspicious of the male that she double down when she lays down the law.
And yet here I am, in the unwonted territory in which Kate not only rejected the idea but also added a warning, “and don’t try to go behind my back and get it.”
She didn’t even have the courtesy to ponder the gift I suggested for my son, Brendan, for Christmas, even though I added the bonus of getting one for her brother, too—provided that the company came through with its buy-one at $24.95, get-half-off-the-other promotion.
Her tone was so threatening that I felt like I was in a more perilous position than Michael Flynn—the most vocal proponent of the “lock-her-up” chant during the presidential campaign who now could end up on the other side of the bars himself.
Even though she’s not the boss of me—and I want to be perfectly clear on this—I ceased and desisted, under protest, just to keep peace in the family and so she wouldn’t lock me up in one of the dog kennels.
What golfer hasn’t found himself (or herself) on the eighth tee, having to pee, when the nearest porta-potty is a long drive, chip and a putt away? What to do, what to do?
Well, I stumbled across the perfect solution— for men, anyway. It would work not only for Brendan but also for brother-in-law Bob Haffele, an avid golfer. Bob, who still teaches middle school, has plenty of time to golf since he retired with one of the most storied coaching careers in Wisconsin high school basketball, after leading the Randolph High School Rockets to 10 state titles.
It’s the Uro Club, the invention of Dr. Floyd Seskin, a Florida urologist whose patients often lamented the lack of toities on golf courses in the Sunshine State. Seskin even got “As-Seen-on-TV” guru Kevin Harrington to give him $25,000 for 70 percent of his company during a guest shot on “Shark Tank.”
Billed as “the only club in your bag guaranteed to keep you out of the woods,” the Uro Club also is touted as “a portable urinal ingeniously disguised as a club.”
I wouldn’t regard it as necessarily all that ingenious, as it’s basically a fake 7-iron with a screw top and enlarged shaft as a reservoir. It also has a towel at the top so that nobody would guess that the user is peeing into the club, even though, from a distance, it looks exactly like he is doing just that, behind a towel.
I lived in Florida for damn near 15 years, during which I found that most courses have plenty of restrooms sprinkled around—some, simple porta-potties and others, honest-to-goodness bathrooms with running water, flush toilets and concessions.
I spent plenty of time in the woods, looking for my routinely errant shots. Some of those woods are thick enough to block whatever you’re doing—even from the houses along the fairways of the fanciest courses. So it’s not like I’m at a total loss for relief.
Besides I never would buy such a club for myself because I do better with a 5-iron punch-and-run on an approach where many golfers would use a 7 iron. Not to mention the fact that Uro Club directions say not to use it as a club.
But I thought it would be a good novelty item for Brendan and Bob. Well, maybe useful for Brendan, because he’s always blaming me for things he says are inherited, such as a nervous bladder and the tendency to have sebaceous cysts on his head. (I’ve been called a knothead for other reasons, and, well, I have had a few cysts, but I refuse to take the rap for him on those occasional deformities.)
It definitely would be a novelty item for Bob, because he keeps the ball in the fairway and rarely ends up in the woods, with his knack for hitting it long and straight. But I think he would get a lot of yuks with a Uro Club at the 19th hole.
Of course, he won’t get one now because his sister, who is NOT the boss of me, said no.
Speaking of Woods, how ‘bout that Tiger? He just got back on the course to compete in the Hero World Challenge, after gathering cobwebs for a year.
Maybe he could use an Uro Club. After all, it’s been so long since his last win that he’s reached a certain age where men start locating the nearest restroom wherever they go—just to be safe.
Of course, if Woods did get one and used it, he’d better be careful with his trademark Tiger Twirl of the club, eh?