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David
Spates
"Therefore I Am"
Published Dec. 20, 2005 |
Lay off "the" dentist
and buy some floss
Why does the dentist get so much grief? It's not as though
he enjoys inflicting pain on people. He's just doing his
job with the most modern and capable tools he has. Lighten up
on the guy and buy some floss.
The dentist fascinates me. First of all, he (or she) has a
job preceded by "the." That's really cool. I wish I
were "the" something. Oh sure, I'm a newspaper columnist,
but I'm not "the" newspaper columnist. I'm also a part-time
Web site manager, but I'm not "the" Web site manager.
These days I spend most of my waking hours being Daddy, but not
even my own kids call me "the" Daddy. "The"
husband? Shelia's never said it - not once. Sometimes I call
her "the" wife, but that's different. It rolls off
the tongue so nicely.
"Sir, would you like to go ahead and buy that 70-inch
plasma TV?"
"I'd love to, but I doubt the wife would approve."
See what I mean? It sounds OK, but if the roles were reversed
and we were talking about, say, a diamond necklace, it just wouldn't
sound the same. "I'd love to, but I doubt the husband would
approve." It doesn't sound right, does it?
But "the" dentist fits. It's as though anyone who
works on teeth automatically achieves icon status. "The"
doctor has it too. "The" president gets it as well,
but you don't have to go to medical school or win the Electoral
College to get "the" stuck in front of your job. You
can be "the" mechanic, "the" mail carrier
or even "the" trash man. Heck, if you perform a job
in which you visit other people's homes, you get "the"
bestowed upon you too. In fact, you get the best "the"
of them all - you're "the" guy.
"Shelia, the air conditioner's still broken. Did you
call 'the' guy?"
"No, I thought you called 'the' guy."
"I didn't call 'the' guy. I don't even know who 'the'
guy is."
"The" guy is all-knowing. He can do anything. He's,
well, he's "the" man. He may not bring home the bank
like "the" dentist, but he's still "the"
guy. I suppose life is all about tradeoffs.
Most everyone in America can relate to visiting "the"
dentist. It doesn't matter that there are approximately 170,000
professionally active dentists in this country, according to
the American Dental Association. All 170,000 are "the"
dentist. For us non-dentists, they might as well be the same
one. They're just interchangeable faces in high-necked white
coats. When someone hovers over your face, personal details kind
of go out the window.
It's an interesting job, isn't it? Imagine looking into gaping
mouths all day long. It's not for everyone, and that's what I
like about it. Most people couldn't handle being a dentist --
the scraping, the probing, the drilling, the yanking, the screaming.
That's a tough way to spend 40 hours a week. Whatever the dentist
makes, he earns it.
But again, I ask you: Why does the dentist get so much grief?
If something has gone awry with your choppers, it's not his fault.
He's trying to help.
Most people dislike the dentist even when they're not scheduled
to see him anytime soon. If you walk up to the average Joe or
Jane on the street and ask them their thoughts on the dentist,
you probably won't get a favorable response. Even if their next
appointment is months away, the dentist still doesn't get a kind
word.
But why is that so? Is it because uncomfortable or painful
or stressful things happen when the dentist is around? By that
logic, a mortician should be the most hated man in town, but
no one seems to have strong feelings about morticians. Getting
a cavity filled is small spuds compared to what a mortician does.
What about police officers? Chances are that if you're conversing
with a police officer, it's probably not been your best day.
Everyone may not love police officers, but most everyone respects
them and the job they do. Firefighters? Everybody likes firefighters
well enough, but it's the same deal with police officers: If
you need a firefighters' services, things aren't all that great.
In the last seven years or so, I've become quite vigilant
about my teeth. I do it because I don't like what the dentist
has to do when I (repeat I) let things slide. That's the distinction
for me. I like the dentist just fine, but I'm not thrilled with
the procedures he must use to treat my laziness. So I try not
to give him any reason to fire up his whirling drill of agony.
After all, he may be "the" dentist, but I'm "the"
patient and they're my teeth.
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David Spates is a Knoxville resident and Crossville Chronicle contributor whose column
is published each Tuesday. He can be reached at davespates@tds.net
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