It’s almost 12/13/14, the day on which the Mayans predicted Ryan Hall would make his triumphant comeback (oh, even the Mayans missed now and then). That can mean only one thing: Mr. Pants’ Guide to Pecan Pie and Whether Bernadette Peters Was Actually Playing The Trumpet During That Song.
Q. Hey, Daddy-O. I gots me a dilemma. I’m planning a cross-country drive, fueled primarily by expired Chocolate GU Lattes. All that caffeine requires a lot of bathroom breaks, which is a problem on the highways and byways of our fair country. What to do what to do?
A. Don’t call me Daddy-O. For the answer, you need look no further than our proud nation’s long-haul truck drivers. That’s right, you need a Pee Can. Get a Folgers coffee can (yes, that’s why they make that stuff.) Carry it in the car and when nature calls (nature being old and not clued in on texting), you’ll be ready. There’s a Jenster variation that involves a purse, but that’s better left for seasoned ultrarunners.
Q. Ah, the Pee Can. I love it. But. Won’t that cause some confusion, since it’s pronounced the same as the pie?
A. Um, no. The pie is pronounced puh Khan, like Chaka and Genghis, only with less pillaging and music in her.
Q. I’m pretty sure it’s prounced Pee Can.
A. I’m pretty sure I’m Mr. Pants.
Q. I don’t get it. Why do people pronounce it differently?
A. It began as a cruel hoax during the Civil War. The Northerners pronounced it Pee Can so that the Southerners would be tricked into eating pie out of their urine containers. War is hell. Meat is murder. The Smiths were a pretty great band if you could get past Morrissey’s sideburns.
Q. But Mr. Pants. What about your favorite songwriter, Willis Alan Ramsey, author of Muskrat Love and patron saint of all Muskrat challenges? Doesn’t he sing “she’s as sweet as one of her Pee Can pies?” Are you saying Willis Alan Ramsey is (gasp) wrong?
Q. And what about your favorite songwriter, Jeff Tweedy (is mr. pants sort of fickle about his favorite songwriters?) who sings “A piece of Pee Can pie and you is all I want”? If folk music is a reflection of our times, aren’t folks seeing Pee Cans in the mirror?
A. I think our reception is starting to break up. I can’t hear you.
Q. Isn’t it also true that you pronounced it sauCONEy for a couple of years before being tasered by a factory rep at a marathon expo?
A. Mr. Pants is no longer taking questions.
Q. Maybe we could agree to disagree? You say tomato?
A. Mr. Pants doesn’t like tomatoes.
Q. OK, Mr. Pants. Thanks a Pantsload. One more question. In honor of 12/13/14, I’m running 12 miles on a track on the 14th while drinking 13 Ironbeers. But the track doesn’t have a bathroom. What to do what to do?
A. Look for Jenster’s purse.
Do you have a question about running, the Civil War, or just what exactly is in the bottom of the Jenster’s purse? Don’t ask Mr. Pants. He’s out looking for pie.
Not to be confused with Pekin, Illinois. And who cares if Bernadette Peters was really playing the trumpet? For gosh sakes it Bernadette Peters man. Trumpet or no she’s A number one in my book. I would watch her sing the phone book if we had any around here anymore. If you get my meaning, if you catch my drift.