New gold tooth

At 4:30 today, I will have my second gold tooth glued in my mouth. You'd think that would be a painless procedure, but I have learned not to assume. When I got the last gold tooth put in last spring, that glue sent arrows of pain up to the top of my head and down to my chest for a couple of days. Things settled down, and now the tooth is a good, quiet soldier, lined up with the rest of the molars on daily chewing duty. But, I wonder what will happen today when that glue gets dabbed on and starts its bonding.

My teeth have been a mess since I was seventeen and got hit in the face with a baseball trying to break up a double play at second base during a Legion game in Ada. Since then, my molars have been giving off chips, usually in response to a mouthful of Shredded Wheat. The incident covered up the fact that I was the starting pitcher in the game--the only time I had ever thrown off a mound--and gave up three runs without getting anybody out. But it wasn't worth the teeth problems.

My teeth have strange timing. I matured late, so lost my teeth about four years behind everybody else. I lost a molar in 9th grade algebra. The next day, I lost another. In algebra class. The day after, a third. In algebra. The teacher rolled his eyes, thought I was staging the whole thing, but I had the evidence in my hand.

Years later, I was visiting a cousin in Seattle, eating some shredded wheat, when one of the molars fell apart. Bad timing. Had to chew on one side for the rest of the vacation. But two years later, I was visiting the same cousin and his family in Seattle, eating granola this time, and another molar fell apart.

Plenty happy to have a pair of shiny gold molars which should last until I expire, at which time I suppose my survivors will be handed them in a little zip lock bag, along with the bill for $9500. Tell him to keep the teeth and knock $1000 off the bill, I say.

Wait, there will be no $9500 bill. Haul me to Fargo for cremation, and spread my ashes on some flower bed. Bone meal provides much-needed phosphate.

Nothing like an impending visit to the dentist to move one's thoughts in a morbid direction!