No Dentists in the Afterlife

The best thing I can think of to look forward to when I die is this: no more root canals. For that matter, no more dental visits, ever! I thought of this as I was having my mouth tortured by Dr. Gorgon and his hygienist/assistant, Nurse Ratchett, this past Monday afternoon.

It should come as no surprise to you that my overactive imagination tends toward the morbid. But, ah, what bliss to look forward to an eternity of zero dental visits! This must have been my fifth or sixth root canal in my lifetime. Whoever dies with the most, wins. Actually, everyone who dies, wins, because there are no dentists in the afterlife! Hall-e-freaking-luia!!

Why Gorgon let me glimpse the goddam drill bit with my peripheral vision is beyond torture. Sweet Angry Jesus, doesn’t my imagination conjure up enough sadistic imagery without that?! Gorgon is usually good with the slight-of-hand, the léger de main. Freaking thing must have been an inch-and-a-half long!

So then of course I thought of the tallest cemetery monument in America, the 150-foot obelisk at the Woodlands Cemetery in Philadelphia. This space needle of a monument memorializes a dentist! I swear to god! The thing is like a giant root canal needle! The obelisk, like a smaller version of the Washington Monument in D.C., memorializes the guy who started the Dental School at the University of Pennsylvania in West Philly, one Thomas Evans (1823-1897). 

Actually, according to the Woodlands’ website, “At his death in 1897, Evans' left his estate to the University of Pennsylvania to found a Dental School…” Evans pioneered such dental advances as using gold for filling cavities (“Dr. Bling?”) and using nitrous oxide as an anesthetic. (So wait - if Evans was using nitrous in the late 1800s, why was my childhood dentist still using ether in the 1960s?! Freaking dentists.)

I suppose if you really were a masochist, you could visit the Penn Dental Museum, the existence of which is  indicated on the large bronze plaque (no pun intended) at the base of Evans' monument. So hey dental professionals out there, heed the words of philosopher John Stuart Mill (1806-1873): “Work while it is called Today; for the Night cometh, wherein no man can work.” Get it all in now, while you can, cuz there ain't no dentists in the afterlife!!!

It’s day two now, and I’m going to make myself a Motrin smoothie and lick my wounds. If I sound a little bitter and have made some sweeping generalizations, that's because I'm viewing it from the pain perspective. Maybe it all began when I first saw Dustin Hoffman in Marathon Man  (1976).... Naw, I hated dentists since I was a kid. By the way, if you dislike having dental work as much as I do and have never seen Marathon Man, do yourself a favor - don't.

Laurence Olivier and Dustin Hoffman in Marathon Man (1976)

The Easter Bunny and Other Grave Matters

When I was a kid, my parents sent me to a dentist who used ether to knock his patients out. That was the anesthetic of choice in the 1960s, before nitrous oxide replaced it. Dr. P. would have the gas hose attached to a little stuffed toy rabbit that he called the “Ether Bunny.” Ether was flammable, which is one reason it is no longer used. Dr. P., I remember vividly, used to smoke a pipe while he worked on my teeth. Imagine that. (Not all of what I just wrote is factual; you have to sort it out. Alright, here’s a hint – it’s all true except for one thing!)

So let’s talk a bit more about Easter, that grand holiday in which we Catholics celebrate Christ rising from the dead (if you expect me to say he saw his shadow as he left the tomb and thereby forecasted six more weeks of winter, you’d be sorely mistaken). Secretly, I think we all want to rise from the dead. Catholics believe that how we spend our eternal life is determined on Judgment Day. This is when we all discover our fate, whether it be Heaven, Hell, or Purgatory. Oh wait, they got rid of Purgatory. Or maybe it never existed, like an annulment, the Catholic version of divorce.

But that all takes me back to the sixties, when the Ether Bunny ran rampant in Dr. P.’s office, and his red lava lamp blooged in the waiting room. I remember thinking how weird it was that he chose red, as it looked like blood.

"Oh my god, what have I gotten myself into?
I'm a human corkscrew and all my wine is blood
They're gonna kill me mama, they don't like me bud." 

–    From John Prine’s song, “Jesus, the Missing Years”

"Maybe there are some Easter eggs down here!!!"

Watch Prine’s video here, its really not sacrilegious. He put’s Christ’s life and death in better perspective than most religious teachers with their holy mysteries. Personally, I believe I’ll be spending eternity in the warmer of the two climates. Heaven for atmosphere, hell for company – isn’t that what Mark Twain said? Doing eternity with my peeps doesn’t sound so bad – better than floating around with a harp trying to keep a halo on your head. And speaking of peeps, the day after Easter is the traditional marshmallow peep-eating contest at the Dawson Street Pub, in Philadelphia’s Manayunk neighborhood. So do stop by Monday evening if you want to see yellow.

To sum up my Easter holiday, I’ll just mention that we had a pleasant dinner at the slots parlor buffet in Wilkes-Barre, PA, with my Mom. She loves it there, so it’s become somewhat of a tradition with us. I was driving there with my three-year-old daughter, Olivia, when she asked when we would get to Grandma’s house. I told her we were meeting her at the casino. She asked, “What’s a casino?” Tough to explain to a youngster, but I began with, “Well, it’s a place where people gamble … ” She cut me off asking, “What does gamble mean?” Clutching for something she would understand, I attempted, “When people wager their money …” Cut off again with, “Daddy, what’s wager?” Hmmm. “That’s when people try to win …“ Olivia jumps in with, “Like when you try to win a game?” I said, “Exactly. They try to win a game.” It’s all a game, really, isn’t it? If we could just treat life as such a simple thing, it might be more fun.