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The BBHQ Boomer Essays:

A Trip to the Dentist

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Our Boomer-In-Charge here at BBHQ, Hershel Chicowitz, writes frequently about current events... from a boomer perspective. He is sometimes funny, sometimes provocative, sometimes a little of each. We hope you get a kick out of our Boomer Essays.

In the category of "be careful what you wish for...," I was just saying the other day that I would rather spend an afternoon writhing in pain in the dentist's chair than hear another word about Monica Lewinsky and Bill Clinton. Sure enough, the next day my dentist informed me that my lower, right wisdom tooth had to come out.

This surprised me; I thought I had liberated all my wisdom teeth when I was a teenager...... Things were indeed so much simpler then. That summer in the late 60's I was working in the food service area at the local swimming pool. We fixed and filled vending machines and kept the place clean. (Read about it in "The Days of Summers Past.") There were only a few days when the temperature went over 80 degrees in Cleveland, and this particular day was destined to be a scorcher. I was scheduled to work the 1-9 shift. But I had a 10 o'clock appointment to have a tooth removed. I remember that I had novocaine, but I can still hear the sound of the tooth crackling as it reluctantly gave up its comfortable seat in the rear of my mouth. The sound was worse than the pain. But afterwards, with my mouth swollen and full of bloody gauze, I put on my Variety Vending T-shirt and headed over to the pool. I had work to do.

"When duty whispers low, 'thou must'; the youth replies: 'I can.'" (High school poetry... I don't remember the author.)

Anyway, I was OK as long as I did not have to bend over, and didn't have to talk. It was not worth the effort to explain why I could not talk right... especially when... I could not talk right. So I just nodded my head a lot, and tried to do my job. Weatherman Dick Goddard was right; it was hot as blazes.

Ron Silver, owner of Variety Vending and watchdog of the food service area, was a taskmaster to end all. If you looked the wrong way, he let you know about it. It was not at all unusual to get yelled at half a dozen times a day. But his bark was far worse than his bite. He never fired anybody; the faint of heart quit long before he had a chance.

So it didn't surprise me when Ron yelled at me in spite of my delicate condition. "Thunder," he barked. (My nickname was "Thunder" - it's a long story.) "Get over there!" "Thunder; pick up that paper." I was used to it... I just did my job and kept my mouth shut. I needed the buck-thirty-five an hour I was making. The novocaine was still doing it's job; I really felt OK.

But that was not good enough for Ron. I remember him calling me over and ordering me to "talk to the customers." I mumbled something back to him, but he just pointed to "the floor," and ordered me to get back out there.

So it was especially surprising when he called me over in the middle of a rush and gently told me to take a few minutes off. "Go in the back and wash your hands and face. Sit down and rest for a while." Huh?? It was only when I went into the back and looked in a mirror that I realized there was a stream of blood trickling down out of the corner of my mouth.

Ah, those were the simpler days of my youth. This time the dentist warned me that "this may hurt just a little bit." He called it a surgical extraction of the lower, right wisdom tooth. I thought of it as an amputation of a loyal and long-time body appendage. I know this was no John Wayne Bobbit deal; but still, I had carried this tooth around for nearly half a century. Doesn't loyalty count for anything? I guess not.

My dentist's office is just down the road from University Hospital in Tampa. You may recall that that is the infamous place where a doctor cut off the wrong leg of a diabetes patient a few years ago. Now, my dentist has no affiliation with that hospital, but I was taking no chances. I walked into his office with the words "WRONG SIDE" painted on the left side of my face. And just to make sure, I also painted the word "NO" on both arms and legs. And I guess he did not find it amusing when I asked him how many patients he had lost while extracting a tooth. I thought it was a perfectly reasonable inquiry.

My dentist has always taken precautions; it only makes sense. However, this is the first time I recall him using arm and leg restraints on me. Suddenly I realized that this was going to be a big deal. Fortunately, as he shot me up with novocaine and I began to go numb, my favorite music was playing in the background. It was one of those frequent flashbacks to the sixties:

"I see... a bad moon rising
I see... trouble on the way
I see... earthquakes and lightnin'
I see... bad times today."

I actually felt very little pain, and I didn't hear the much dreaded sound of my roots letting go of the tight grip on my jaw. The dentist had apparently decided on a different approach. "Nurse, let me have the Patriot missile bit, please." He was going to drill it into submission. Apparently there was not enough tooth left for him to pull it, so he had to drill it out.

"You got to know when to hold 'em;
know when to fold 'em.
Know when to walk away,
and know when to run."

Believe me, I felt like running.

"Well, that's half of it," he said confidently, as he drew his hands out of my mouth and paused. Half of it? He cut it in half? Not feeling comfortable with the silence, and reaching as far as I could for some comic relief, I managed to mumble, "Well I guess that means we won't be able to put a bracket on it and use it as a key chain."

Nothing. Not a thing. It was as if I had said absolutely nothing. He just went back to work on the other half. But about 90 seconds later, he said, very matter-of-factly, "No, we won't be able to make a key chain out of this," and went on with his work.

So much for his sense of humor.

"Cause every hand's a winner
And every hand's a loser
And the best you can hope for is to die in your sleep."

Yeah, but with arm and leg restraints strapped to your body?

"Don't you know that it... hurts so bad;
it makes me feel so sad...."

I have been going to this dentist for nearly a quarter of a century; he really is terrific, in spite of my complaints. And if he does not have a sense of humor, his office manager proved that she does. I had a friend drive me this time, and while I was losing a tooth, the manager walked out to the waiting room and said, "This is not going particularly well; it may take a little longer than we expected. Are you a close friend or relative of the patient?"

But in about an hour, it was all over... all but the recovery. No, I was not up for an afternoon of work this time. I went straight home and to bed. Besides, the words "WRONG SIDE" were still emblazoned on my left cheek.

On the way home, the pain began to set in, but music was will running through my mind. I thought of how I might be able to write about the experience. With apologies to Dion and the Belmonts, I penned this:

"Here's my story...
it's sad but true;
'bout a tooth, I used to chew.
It had to go, 'cause it went bad.
and left me feeling... oh, so sad.
Hurt, hurt;
w-ooo-ooo-oh;
hurt, hurt.
w-ooo-ooo-oh;
hurt, hurt.
w-ooo-ooo-oh; hurt!
Ahhhhhhhh..."

Yeah, that captured the moment. Fortunately, that is as far as I went with it. Twelve hours later I was hungry, but the thought of chewing food was downright scary. Nope, not yet. So what's a guy to do? Well, I'll bet you didn't know that you can suck a McDonald's french fry straight through a thick, plastic straw, did you? "We are motivated by inspiration or desperation." I don't know which this was. Actually, it didn't taste half bad.

Well, it is five days later, and I am only now getting back to normal. But I learned the hard way that one good sneeze wipes out three days of healing.

So I guess it's true that you heal faster when you are young. But I'd like to think I was a bit wiser this time; no blood trickled out of my mouth - at least, not that I am aware of. And I can tell you this for sure: the next tooth of mine that is amputated will be removed over my cold, hard, dead body.

Don't hold your breath.

"And somewhere in the night,
the gambler, he broke even.
But in his final words I found
and ace that I could keep."

Remember, kids: brush and floss after every meal.

OK, OK:

So nigh is grandeur to our dust,
    So near is God to man,
When Duty whispers low, Thou must,
    The youth replies, I can!
        - "Voluntaries," Ralph Waldo Emerson


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The Boomer Essays - On Being a Boomer:

Personal Stories of the Chicowitz:
    Exploring My Roots: A Chicowitz History
    A Trip to the Dentist
    The Chicowitz Gets Dumped - Again!
    Just Shoot Me!
    He Sleeps with the Fishes
    My Little Girl, Princess
    Why am I Still Single?
    The Plastic Surgery Saga
    Our House is a Very, Very, Very Fine House... Not!
    Our House - Part 2
    Our House - Part 3: Reclaiming the Past
    Middle Age and the Mazdamobile
    Down for the Count
    That Dirty Dancing
    Contemplations on the Hereafter
    Tool Time with the Chicowitz
    The Chicowitz Goes Country
    Born to be Screwed
    Mr. Brownthumb
    The Mixer - A Singles Story
    Crab Cakes

Midlife Crisis:
    The Defining Moment
    The Saga Continues
    Fighting Back
    The Straight Scoop

In December, Traditions of Christmas:
    1997: The Christmas Tree
    1998: Remembrance.... and Friends
    1999: Christmas Cards
    2001: Songs & Stories
    2002: The Gift of Giving
    2003: Decorating the Tree
    2004: The Christmas Pin
    2005: The Making of the Christmas Card
    2006: Christmas on a Toothpick
    2007: The Paper Route Years
    Merry Christmas, Y'all
    Hershel's Wish List: 2004
    The "A" List

Teach, Preach & Nag:
    Courage and Class: Tony Snow
    The New American Dream
    A Grateful Heart
    Things We'll Learn
    The Death of a Friend
    The Age of Non-Responsibility
    "Thank You": Another Dying Phrase
    The Saturday Night Live "Curse"
    The Boomers, the Xers and Beyond
    Rules, Boundaries and Consequences
    It's for the Children
    "American Beauty" - an American Nightmare
    Of Values and Legacies
    School Violence: Lessons from the Past
    The Boomer Lyrics are with Us Everywhere
    Everybody's Got a Story
    Power to the Boomers
    My Kingdom for a Plain Burger
    Perception is Reality?
    Oh Woe is Us!
    It's Soooooo Hard
    Take Care of Yourself
    Public Service
    The Universal Apology
    The Leader of the Band

Travels with Princess:
    A Camping We Will Go
    A Camping We Did Go
    Travels with Princess - Part 1
    Travels with Princess - Part 2
    Me and You and a Dog Named Princess
    Savannah: Midnight in the Garden
    Time to Think
    On Top of Old Smoky
    The Fall Leaves and Such

A View from Hurricane Alley:
    The Big Scare
    Before the Storm
    After the Storm
Katrina:
    Intemperate Thoughts
    Information Misload
    Wet Dream

Election 2004:
    JF Kerry: Just the Facts
    A Discussion of the Issues
    The Election 2004 Quiz
    Find a Bush Lie -- Collect $5,000
    Talking Dirty in Washington
    I Believe - The George W. Bush Edition
    Inside John Kerry
    Why Character Matters - Part Umpteen
    Reporting for Duty
    Is it Safe Yet?
    Why We/They Hate Bush
    Ronald Reagan: Hard-Wired Decency
    What I Am
    Nov. 8: Post-Mortem

Election 2006:
    I Believe -- the Election 2006 Edition
    A Civil Debate

A Boomer Remembers...:
    The 60s: Life was Sweeter
    The New American Dream
    Another Side of the Greatest Generation
    Where has all the Music Gone?
    Memories of the Sock Hop
    Remembering the Chairman of the Board
    Restless in Seattle
    The New Math
    We Are Not One Boomer
    "And Here's to You, Joe DiMaggio"
    The Days of Summers Past
    The Seeds of Character
    A Letter to a Teacher
    I Want a Clark Bar!
    When Music was Fun
    Decoration Day - The Measure of Sacrifice
    11/22/63: We Remember
    Flashback: The Y2K Hysteria
    When the Music had Words
    Ronald Reagan: Hard-Wired Decency
    The Great Carsoni
    Love Songs of the Chicowitz
    Do You Remember These?
    V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N -- We're on Vacation!
    A Watergate Success Story

Straight Talk on Social Issues:
    Money 101: Incentive
    Health Care: Solutions
    Dr. Jack - A Man for Our Times
    Misplaced Outrage: The Imus Affair
    Global Warming Warning
    Sin Offsets
    Immigration: Good Fences
    July, 2006: The Price of Freedom
    Oh, Woe is Babs!
    "Fair and Balanced"?
    Lower Education
    Boomer Retirement: "Hell No, We Won't Go!"
    Social Security for Dummies
    Feelings over Facts
    Talking Down the Economy
    The Little Red Hen
    The Singles' Journal: Marriage
    The Shadow IRS
    The Dumbing Down of America
    The Next, Great Entitlement
    Voting Our way to Fairness
    Straight Talk on Energy
    We are Losing the Culture War
    A Taxpayers' Bill of Rights
    The Greedy Hand Extends its Reach
    My Kingdom for a Candidate
    Another Hat in the Toilet
    We Have Met the Enemy
    I'm From the Government & I'm Here to Help You
    B. Clinton: The Case Against the President
    B. Clinton: The Case For the President
    Charlton Heston: The Culture War
    Head Start: The Difference between Red and Blue
    Labor Day - The Entrepreneur
    It's Lonely at the Top
    Kids on Drugs
    Roe v. Wade Reality
    Stem Cell 101
    Vietnam: From a Distance
    Iraq: Another Vietnam - ?

Mostly, Just Silly Stuff:
    Sin Offsets
    Menopause: Just for Laughs
    The Fat Tax
    Cell Phones & Other Crimes & Misdemeanors
    Like Father, Like Son
    Where Have You Gone, Walter Cronkite?
    A Dire Warning to all Boomers
    An Aging Boomer's Final Call to Action
    BoomerSpeak
    "American Pie": a Fresh Interpretation
    Hail to Thee, My Alma Mater
    Rock On!
    The BBHQ Exam Story
    Great Quotations
    The $2.5 Million Pyramid
    I Double-Dare You!

The Terrorist Attack of 2001:
    The Best of Times
    Showing Your Patriotism
    "All We are Saaaaaaaa-ying..."
    2004: Is it Safe Yet?

The Chicowitz on Iraq:
    Politics for Dummies - Part I
    Peace in Our Time
    Yankee Go Home!
    Bullhorn Responsibility
    Blood for Oil!
    Why We Fight
    They Said - Part 1
    They Said - Part 2
    Why They're Wrong

** There's even more: The BBHQ Archives **




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