March to the Sea

The dentist visit always cracks me up.

First, there's a minimum 45 minute wait in the waiting room--I don't think it matters how busy they are...they always give you 45 minutes of crappy magazine reading time to pump up for THE BIG MEETING* (explanation to follow).

I finally get called in and get taken into one of the back rooms...there are always crazy pictures on the dentist's wall. At the office in Princeton, there's a 1966 framed BATMAN poster, with drawings of Adam West and the rest of the crew (P.S. Adam West is older than I thought...he's over 70...props for being so hilarious on Family Guy).

So, the hygenist comes in and does the cleaning thing. I'm bleeding onto my bib and am always shocked when I rinse to see the blood. 'Don't worry about the blood, honey, that's normal.' Yes, I know, I've been to the dentist before...it's still a little disconcerting when you don't feel any pain...

10 MINUTES TO THE BIG MEETING

They clean me with that awful tasting green toothpaste. Now there are green and red splotches on my bib, a combination of blood and toothpaste. Some of the blood is at the bottom of my bib. How did that happen? Is blood flying out of my mouth somehow without me noticing? I don't understand...

5 MINUTES TO THE BIG MEETING

The hygenist cleans me up and offers me a toothbrush. Hooray! A free toothbrush! Man, I should go to the dentist every day. She tells me THE DENTIST WILL BE IN SHORTLY.

2 MINUTES TO THE BIG MEETING

I'm so nervous. Please, please don't let me have any cavities. Or worse. My gums were bleeding too much, I know it. I think back to when I last flossed...four years ago. That can't be good. Do I brush long enough? Some days I rush it. Fuck, why did I rush it? My teeth are falling out. Why is my gum sore all of the sudden? I have gum disease, I know it. I'm gonna need oral surgery.

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, BOYS AND GIRLS, HERE HE IS, THE STAR OF THE SHOW...DR. GOLD/SCHWARTZ/LEVINE/WANG/SINGH!

(Tonight Show introduction music)

'Thank you, thank you, I'm Dr. Levine!'

[Applause]

I'm always a little awkward around THE DENTIST. It's like this guy's a celebrity. He comes in at the end, like the owner of a large restuarant, to pay his respects. I always feel humbled in his presence. OH MY GOD IT'S THE DENTIST! I always shake his hand. 'YES! I'm never washing this hand again!'

The dentist is typically very friendly and ALWAYS calls you by your first name. HE KNOWS ME! The DENTIST! Wow...he only sees me twice a year! Man, I'm telling all my friends.

He opens my mouth, looks for 10 seconds, pokes around a bit, and says, "you're fine!" He leaves.

I'm overjoyed. It's rare in life that you get straightforward, no strings attached good news. Now, it's not like I learned anything from this visit. I left with no more specific knowledge about my teeth than I came in with. But I'm still so happy. I don't even want the dentist to look, I think...it's a bit of a paradox. I certainly want him to catch anything that might turn into a big problem down the road...but at the same time, I'm very glad to shut my mouth after his 10 seconds of poking around and to agree with his quick diagnosis that I'm fine. That's OK, Doc...you don't have to double-check. You said I'm OK. No backsies.