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Walk a mile in my teeth

By LINDSAY BIANCHI

A good friend of mine recently got an upper denture plate put in after many years of suffering the slow decay of his choppers. Through no fault of his own, the enamel on his teeth simply fell away. I couldn’t help but feel his pain. I had the same experience nearly 20 years ago.

Perhaps my situation could have been prevented more than his. I suppose I could have been more diligent with the dental floss. Unfortunately, that’s all water over the gums now.

Be that as it may, I have always believed that basic healthcare, especially dental care, should be more readily available to every citizen.

It doesn’t seem fair that people should have to struggle with physical ailments which are preventable or repairable.

Without the benefit of insurance, of which dental seems to be the most rare, a bad tooth can become an insurmountable obstacle. Those who are lucky enough to afford the upkeep of their teeth, or are privy to a company dental plan, have no idea what it is like to live with the slow demise of your smile.

I battled that demon for years. From root canals that I couldn’t pay to have finished to amateurish attempts at self-medication, my dental dilemma persisted. I became a connoisseur of Anbesol and learned to live with the pain.

Finally, I got to the point where something had to be done. So the last few were pulled and I was fitted with a plastic row of teeth.

I’ve been all smiles ever since. I still have the occasional lower tooth catastrophe resulting from fillings that finally failed. I’ve ripped big honkin’ molars right out of my head and extracted shards of broken teeth from my gum-line. It’s more than a mouth, it’s an adventure!

I guess what I’m trying to get at is that stuff like that can really make it hard to live your life, to stay in the race. I’m lucky, I always land on my head, which is really hard. Others are not so fortunate.

I know, dental care is expensive, but why does that have to be? Why can’t the government throw some money at the simple problems that affect their people? If I were the the “King of the Forest” I would be interested in my citizens’ health and their consequent ability to be a productive part of society. Being able to eat seems fairly important to me.

See, I don’t buy all this trickle down backwash la-de-dah jazz. To me it’s very simple. Look at what people really need to live a normal life in this country and “git ‘er done!” Don’t give me platitudes about commerce and conquest.

I don’t care. I shouldn’t have to. I pay my taxes every year like everyone else. I expect accountability from these “suits.” Hey, I don’t know this Bush guy. I’ve just seen him on TV and I wasn’t exactly falling all over myself with awe and admiration. I was hoping I might get to attend that big inaugural bash, but then I realized I’m a shlub.

Do right by the average American. You shouldn’t have to be special or part of a special interest group to get some answers and some action from the government. We the people have simple needs. We just want to go to work and come home and eat our gruel and wake up the next day without some new law or new loophole tripping us up before we even get our teeth in.

Someone once said a happy worker is a productive worker. I think it may have been William Randolph Hearst or Ronald McDonald. I’m not sure. Whoever it was made sense.

We don’t all want to be the guy clawing his way to the top or chewing his way to the center. Whatever. Some of us prefer the simple pleasures in life and that’s enough. That’s plenty.

We have the power to help people. It’s not rocket science. It’s not even remedial math. Sometimes I think I could get up there in that big white house thingy and fix what needs fixing.

As a matter of fact, I bet there are a lot of people out there that could “wing it” just as effectively as any of those blue-suited, red tie-wearin’ bozos if they had the chance.

Heck, all I think you really have to know how to do at that level is sign your name real fancy.

Well, once again it looks like I’ve bitten off more than I could chew. I would say that my eyes were bigger than my stomach, but that’s another whole kind of harangue.