Homo sapien pie-hole.Mine's in damn good shape. 

The Dentist Evolves

I just went to a new dentist, one closer to my home than my old dentist. It's been three years since I've been, and I have no excuses for that other than it didn't make the financial cut in relatively tight times. (Dentists hurt me. If I'm going to pay to be hurt, there should at least be a happy ending.)

The new dentist graduated in 1996. He has a very peaceful office. There were massaging chairs in the waiting room. I was offered fruit juice or water. They were playing some of my '80s favorites.

I filled out the form as completely as I felt necessary. Then I was invited into a cozy room with a round table. The office manager, I presume, sat down with me. Treece was her name, maybe? Then the doctor. And they asked me questions.

"What do you expect to accomplish in this visit? What do want to take away from the experience? What concerns do you have?"

Accomplish? I expect my teeth to be scaled. I expect an x-ray so I can see if something is about to go really, really wrong inside my mouth. What do I want to take away from the visit? What the f*ck? Maybe an Oral B extra soft. That's all.

"We see here you didn't fill in your birthdate - 1961 is just the year."

"Yes, well, you'll see a lot of things I didn't put in. So I'll just answer all the questions at once: I didn't think my exact birthdate was germain to the task at hand. And since I'm paying cash, I thought a lot of other questions were unnecessary."

"Oh." Treece looks at the doc. "Yes. uh..."

"May 8th. Does it matter?"

She smiled. "We like to send a birthday card."

I will digress on this for a moment - I don't want birthday cards from my dentist, or my realtor, or my insurance agent. I really don't. It's patently insincere, and it's a trend that's built up around some faux customer 'relationship' thing that's creeping into business. I get cards from all these businesses, and I laugh at the silliness of it every time it happens.

Anyway, I told them that I didn't want a birthday card.

"And you wrote under 'hospital visits' 'too many to list - standard injuries'. What kinds of injuries?"

"Again, it's just not germain to the conversation. At least I didn't think so. I'm not on medications, and I'm not under a doctor's care."

The dentist looked at me with the most benign smile. "We just like to know your medical history, and experiences."

"Stitches here, here, and here." I pointed at spots from toes to the top of my head. "Blown ankles from hang gliding. Multiplee broken arm. Appendicitis. Nothing current."

"Are you kind of accident prone?" He said it smiling like it was fun becoming my friend.

"No. I just used to do things that had higher rates of injury. I do fewer of those things now. But I'm not accident prone."

"What do you like to do in your spare time?"
"What do you do for a living?"
"Are you from around here?"
"Do you have a view at your house?"

I was pleasant, but made it clear that I just needed my teeth cleaned. Honestly. I guess it's better than the doc asking all the questions while I've got eight latex-clad fingers and a suction tube inside of my mouth, but really... I've got enough friends.

It was just weird. It was a little too over-produced.

Anyway: no cavities. Some gum recession. A molar that's cracking in half and will need a crown soon. And really, really clean teeth considering I haven't been to a dentist in three years.
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Amazing textures of eastern Washington. (Click the pic.)  

Flying Back

I left Sun Valley yesterday at 11.30 in the morning. I expected the mountains to give up some rising and falling air. Turbulence is just the price of late departures over the mountains of Idaho.
It was pristine. Smooth as butter. One of the rare days you can fly down the canyons and valleys in the middle of the day. I didn't - I stayed at 10,500, then 12,500 on a direct route to La Grande, Oregon, where I stopped for relief from morning coffee, and for some fuel.

It was a gorgeous trip. I love this photo I got near Pendleton.

Clydesdales don't yield for the crosswalks.

Sun Valley again

I'm in Sun Valley again. Ketchum. Hailey. The valley is three towns.

I came in to install the computer that Rod and Linda Kvamme bought. I made them leave the room when I did it - I didn't have the heart to show them that ten minutes later, it was a done deal. (Okay, it did take a little finesse, but the computer install thing these days - the manufacturers are getting it down.)

Wagon Days is the big Labor weekend celebration here. Yesterday was the parade through Ketchum: over an hour long, covered wagons, buckboards, carriages... no motors allowed. It was a really fun, corny, wonderful small town event. Everyone had a great time. There was almost no attitude, except from some of the really rich people who are populating this town. But their attitude was to dress up in LeRoy Neimann inspired western wear (leather vests with lots of tassles and cow skulls and sage brush painted on them with lots of turquoise-esque beads). Drink champagne or bloody marys. Crack Kerry jokes.

It was perfectly sunny here at 6,000 feet, with a pretty good breeze keeping a lot of people in some sort of coat. My lips are chapped today, and my eyes are a bit burnt.

I miss being this far from the city. I miss it a lot.