The following is the transcript for the first episode of the podcast Aardvark Avarice. Click the Spotify link above to listen or find it on your favorite podcast app.
Aardvark Avarice 01: Dentist is a Four-Letter Word
Welcome to Aardvark Avarice
I am your host Balki Bartokomous
This podcast is brought to you by Master Bait and Tackle. You can’t beat their bait. They offer private lessons and specialized Equipment. That’s Master Bait and Tackle. Hold tight and don’t let go.
Let me begin by saying this is not a Conspiracy. On that note 49.84983, -95.54987
Isn’t it true that nothing boosts your self-esteem like a good reaming from a dentist about the apocalyptic conditions of your oral hygiene and how your decisions regarding the health of your teeth threaten not only your existence, but those around you as well. Dentists don’t even sugar coat it, do they, or even try for the backhanded compliment. It’s straight to, “If you don’t begin to floss you will have gum disease, lose all of your teeth, never have sex again, and will be shunned for your repulsive and malignant choices in life. Expect to die young from dental infections or shame. Here’s a pamphlet on proper flossing that I typically give to five-year-olds.”
And it’s no coincidence dentists drop their truth bombs when they are up to their wrist in your mouth playing hook man on your teeth so you have no means to hit them with a scathing, if not clever retort. I think for my next cleaning I’m going to start by popping a couple pieces of taffy, followed by a handful of peanuts, just so I get my money’s worth. For fun, let’s all start referring to our dentists as face proctologists. They’ll love it, but I would wait until after your root canal – not before. The lucky few are those with insurance that pays for Nitrous Oxide. If I were one of those lucky few, I’d hit that baby before the dentist even came into the room. It would be the best for both of us. I’m going to save on therapy for PTSD, and they save on auto body work because I won’t know whose car to key.
Obviously then Americandentalgroup.org is my favorite website. It’s where I go when wearing burlap undies and self-flagellation are not enough mortification of the flesh for my penance. Actually, I blame Google. I put in a search for “Covid Teeth” and Larry Page directed me to a 2020 blog article on “3 oral hygiene tips during the coronavirus pandemic.” Don’t ask me why I was looking up Covid Teeth. Let me just say it has nothing to do with Bette Midler, bath salts, Auto-Brewery Syndrome, or open-concept design. But for your information there is such a thing as Covid Teeth, as well as Covid Ear, Covid Toes, and Covid Nails. Look them up at your leisure.
Blogger Derek Packard gives us three gems for Covid Oral Health as recommended by Lawrence Fung, DDS, founder of Silicon Beach Dental. Dr. Fung suggests fluoride mouth rinse, gum stimulation, and teeth whitening. I’d like to address each one of these individually with the enthusiasm of Jerry Seinfeld sharing the stage with Bobcat Goldthwait.
Here’s a fact that is supportive of fluoride rinses, albeit utterly boring.
Studies show that fluoride rinses prevent nearly 25 percent of tooth decay in children and adults.
Now while I am typically all for anything that increases the health of individuals, toothy health included, in this instance, I have to say, “I don’t care.”
Here’s another tidbit. Fluoride is so effective at preventing tooth decay that the Center for Disease Control and Prevention named it one of the great public health achievements of the 20th century.
And my response to that is, “Big woop.”
Did you know about 164 million work hours are lost to dental related illness each year?
Yada, yada, yada…
Fluoride is a natural mineral found in many foods and present throughout nature.
Yeah, so is arsenic, but you won’t see me gargling that anytime soon.
I’ve read the statistics. I’ve seen all the benefits and the number of teeth that have been saved thanks to Fluoride, but barring it becoming the key to immortality, I can still say I don’t care. Let me explain.
Was there ever a person in your life, usually someone you have known for a long time, that has engrained you with such deep-seeded resentment, no action on their part will ever change that hatred? The caddy girl in high school that always had some put down for your wardrobe. “The nice thing about that hat is that it covers up the head wound that made you think it was a good idea to wear it in the first place.” The boss that treats you like the pig footstool from Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland. “I love a warm pig belly for my aching feet!”
It doesn’t even have to be someone you know personally. Sometimes the resentment is towards a reprehensible public figure. Self-indulgent socialites, predatory movie executives and heads of political parties come to mind.
It could be just one despicable act that fuels the dislike. Like Gail Berman, the head of Fox Entertainment cancelling Firefly. I don’t care that she produced Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel before Firefly, or Alphas and The Addams Family after. This self-proclaimed brown coat will never forgive that heinous transgression. For those moments when I think about forgiving Ms. Berman, I remind myself that she also produced The Cape. That alone deserves a week in the stocks.
Well, I house that same deep-seeded resentment towards fluoride.
My first experience with fluoride rinse was in the fifth grade at the impressionable age of ten. The perfect age to develop a life-long aversion to what I like to think of as voluntary punishment for something you haven’t done yet. Fluoride rinses are like having your mouth washed out with soap, only you didn’t get the satisfaction of swearing first.
My school offered fluoride rinses after lunch to any student whose parents were willing to sign off on it and of course, my parents thought they were the responsible sort. The fluoride my school used tasted like Dial antibacterial soap with the consistency of runny snot, and you were expected to swish around this mouthful of soapy mucus for two minutes.
Do you know how hard it is for a kid to hold any kind of liquid in their mouth for two minutes, let alone one that personifies postnasal drip? It was inadvertently swallowed. It dribbled out. It was unintentionally inhaled into the sinuses where it morphed into a prickling vapor behind your eyes. It was accidentally expunged in front of the cute blond girl and her equally cute brunette cousin resulting and excruciating humiliation.
Day after day. From fifth grade, right through sixth. Two years, which in child years is like a decade of bitterness.
Sorry Fluoride. Despite all your wonderful positives, I can neither forget, nor forgive.
Have you seen gum stimulators? They are a thing metal tool, hooked at the end with a pointed metal or rubber tip. I think of them as something an alien would use to probe your orifices after an extraterrestrial abduction. Just imagine a typical gray alien with a big head, giant bug eyes and a baby mouth fishing around in your bellybutton with that thing.
Now don’t read too much into this, but I actually don’t have a problem with gum stimulators. After reading up on them, I’m thinking of buying one myself. They’re about 10 bucks on Amazon. This has nothing to do with my previous reference to alien probes. I don’t have exophilia – or an alien fetish. Sure, I was and still am an X-Files uber-fan, I have seen a UFO – three of them to be specific, and I once stood in the middle of a crop circle, but I’m right there with Stephen Hawking in believing aliens, should they exist, can just stick to their corner of the Universe. We don’t need a real life version of Independence Day, War of the Worlds, or Killer Klowns from Outer Space, which in my mind is much more likely than E.T.
No, the idea of giving my gums a little massage sounds appealing, like a little thank you for all the hard work they do. Gums deserve some recognition. They’re not exactly the Emma Stone of the body, the darlings of anatomy. Gums are wet, lumpy, and not really an appealing color, like naked mole rats. Given the things I put in my mouth, however, I think gums deserve a little TLC. Plus, rubbing my gums has an unusual calming and pleasant sensation, like massaging the tips of the ears.
We’ll leave unusual tactile hot spots for another day and move on.
That brings us to teeth whitening. Hey Dr. Fung, way to teeth shame me.
Here’s what Dr. Lawrence Fung says about teeth whitening: “treat yourself” in this difficult time with a little visual upgrade—after all, haircuts, manicures, and all the rest have been sacrificed, so it’s the least you can do. “Buy some at-home whitening strips—Crest makes a good one—get it shipped to your home/apartment and do that touch up,” he says. After all, he notes, we’ll be back together again, with masks off, at some point, and you’ll want to have a smile that shines for the occasion.
So let’s put this in perspective. After a quick surf of Dr. Fung’s website for his clinic Silicon Beach Dental, I began to wonder if Fung shares the same web designer as Perez Hilton. I was also unsure if I was visiting a dental website or a promo site for a modern art boutique in SoHo. If you are concerned about his credentials, don’t worry, there is an “as seen in” blip that lists Teen Vogue, the New York Post, Popsugar, and Bridalpulse as endorsements, among others.
Dr. Fung’s profile on the website About Page has a glitchy GIF of him smiling while drinking coffee, and then checking his watch on the hand holding his coffee mug. Spillage ensues and he gives us an “aw shucks” expression. It’s cheesy physical comedy, but I can dig that. I’m a sucker for anything cheesy. Not sure how I’d feel about him around my mouth with a dental drill, however. He’s a youngish looking fella who apparently likes wearing a simple white T-shirt with a pocket that is in desperate need of Downy to cure its “half-washed” ailment. Fung makes me think of an America’s Got Talent reject that somehow garners a large social media following based on extreme awkwardness and an abundance of positive energy despite that awkwardness.
Silicon Beach Dental reminds me of a health clinic I visited that had no problem treating cosmetic surgery as the norm. Face-lifts, nose jobs, and breast enhancements were as commonplace as vaccinations, mammograms and cholesterol tests. The website didn’t list services, but I wouldn’t be surprised that crowns and veneer that give you a Hollywood smile are as common as cleanings and cavity repair. Teeth whitening is the Botox of dentistry.
Why don’t you get with the times Dr. Fung and hop on the self-love train? The whole point is to be happy with the person that you are. If a person’s teeth look like cornels of corn, so be it.
You know what. Who am I to judge? If I wasn’t reliant on basic health insurance I might be inclined to a little image tidying. I think with some teeth bleaching, a couple bicep and butt implants, a little lipo around the midriff, and heaps of Rogaine I would be the spitting image of Brad Pitt.
Maybe we talk about loving ourselves just the way we are because that’s more positive than being ticked off because we don’t have enough money to sculpt ourselves the way Snap Chat filters make us look.
Incidentally, Silicon Beach Dental reported on their website that in-house whitening has increased to 750 dollars so keep listening because right now I make about enough to whiten a couple molars.
Well, that wraps it up. Thank you for checking out Aardvark Avarice. I want to mention again our sponsor Master Bait and Tackle who believe that life is better with a rod in your hand. I couldn’t agree more. Until next time, I’m Barry Bostwick saying be safe, be kind, and enjoy the Gouda. Adios.