One of the kindest, most caring young ladies I’ve ever known had to work full-time with demanding and always improvising yours truly, doing a job usually reserved for the two best in the business. And she was the lucky one.

My two dental assistants Kolleen and Dani are Golden. For starters, I’d love to call ‘em my daughters; it’s just that I don’t quite have enough “thoughtful” and “always pleasant” DNA to make the claim stick. Some folks can only fantasize about working together with friends they love. I guess the idea is familiarity will breed some sort of sense of entitlement or worse yet, contempt.

All I can say is for me, the last seven or so years have been more about greater and greater respect and appreciation and…I might as well just come out and admit it, love.

So Kolleen and Dani are sticklers for detail; they require organization and predictable systems just to breathe. And you have to admire their chutzpah for choosing to be Radars O’Reilly to my Colonel Blake with an inner ear infection.

Both of my dental assistants keep me on track, relate to patients on “Hello” and anticipate way better than Pete Carroll can sniff out incoming NCAA violations and penalties.

The two women with whom I spend extended weekdays couldn’t be insincere if their lives depended on it. When I see them interact with folks generous enough to honor us with their trust and loyalty, I know we’re family. If they seem for the moment cynical or sarcastic, I know their just coaching me to a wake-up call. I’ve never seen two lovelier smiles.

If you show up every day and perform a task and you’re compensated for your time and effort, you’ve got a job. If on sight, your co-workers bring a smile and “Good morning” hits warmly like a shot of Tequila, you have yourself a career.

Funny how I used to feel safe and sound when my parents were under the same roof. Funny because whenever either Kolleen or Dani are away, I start looking for my TCDC “security blanket.”

And to think I once figured great dental assistants had awesome technical abilities and great verbal skills, plus the kind of initiative that was more mythical than the Trojan horse toolin’ down Las Tunas? Kolleen and Dani are so much more.

My two dental assistants are human in only the greatest sense of the word; they’re compassionate in the universal sense of the word. Kolleen and Dani are understanding enough to have only walked out on me once. And I deserved the life lesson learned. Thanks again Dani.

And I just can’t seem to lose the image of Dani crying one morning recently. And I’m not so sure I should.

Kolleen took over the assisting duties for a week because Dani’s family at home really needed her. One of twelve siblings had lost a brief, cruel battle with cancer at far too young an age. And just like at the office, Dani was the eloquent source of strength I’ve come to respect, admire, and love so much.

If I close my eyes, I can still see Dani reacting to a sister’s sentimental favorite song and kids asking for their Nana. I know from experience Dani’s hurt and tears will always be there, maybe hidden a little more under the surface as time goes by.

And that sad morning still brings a twinge when I think back at it. And so does the love.

“…la la la…are we human or are we dancer?” now plays in my head all day long. If it weren’t for my trusty dental drill and the loud sucking sound our vacuum makes I’d probably be borderline bruin by now.

Have you ever wanted to ask just one question of someone to clear things up? Like, did you really pay someone to sit down and write the “Five Dollar Foot Long” song? Or, why do you keep on playing those “Clipper Loud!” commercial spots (wouldn’t it be a little more merciful and human to just let the Clips slip out of town around 3AM by Greyhound?) Or, which one of you knuckleheads said, “Sarah Palin, what an awesome idea!!!”

So are we human or are we dancer? I guess if I can’t ask lead singer Brandon Flowers what in the Sam Piazza (coming soon) he’s singing about, I’ll just answer the question myself. Okay Brandster, but first I’ll just pretend you’re in my dental chair and ask, “Why dancer; why not dancers?” “Are we dancer?” sounds more like a bunch of dentists wondering if they’re a reindeer.

Anyway, I must be human because I dance sort of the way the previous City Council played nice with the School District, the Chamber, and business development.

And another one of those questions comes up. Ms. Mayor, we were actually in the movie Viola together so why can’t you guys help out the School District? If you have $37 million in reserve on a rainy day, why not hand over a measly $2 million to get the schools out of the red? Why not preserve the quality of the one local institution that’s the glue for stuff like property value and community pride? So congrats and I hope the new guys are more human than dancer.

And finally back to spin class and one last question; I’m still smiling.

So I know Woody Allen would opt for solitary confinement over lunch with an insurance agent but shucks, I like most of my insurance guys and Woody never met Alvin.

I totally respect the insurance business; to prove it, I’ve been paying them through the nose for around thirty years. And I never even knew Alvin from the gym was in the premium game until he started groaning away about some recent dental care. I think his words were, “Wow, you guys really run a scam.” Turns out, Alvin had had root canal care from a specialist and was now having a crown made to protect the treated tooth. Alvin smelled conspiracy.

“So Alvin, you wouldn’t have an internist do your bypass would you?” “

Jack, you’re the fastest spinner on the planet so you’ll understand I’ve used up all my benefits on one tooth. I actually had to pay out of pocket (whimper.)”

“So Alvin, what do you do anyway?” “I’m in insurance.”

“So Secret Agent Alvin, did you know annual maximum benefits for premium payers are basically the same now as they were in 1970? Wonder who set up that scam?”

I’m still smiling. Even though I’m still hearing “…or are we dancer?” And the answer is: Yes, if you sell dental insurance.

And let me make one thing perfectly clear right now. I am not a coach and I am not on the USC payroll. In fact, I’m very proud and overjoyed just to have a “zero” balance. I guess what you can call me is an unpaid consultant. I attend some practices; the players don’t even say “Hi” and then Pete and I just sort of BS about stuff that I notice. Stuff like, “Should #77’s mouth be Cardinal and Gold too? Red gums and yellow teeth don’t look so healthy.”

About a month ago, Pete and I got together to bowl a few Lucky Strike frames down at LA Live. Twin Tower of Hygiene Jen begged to tag along; Kinesiologist to the elite athletes Doc Sahara showed up hoping to ride my coattails to an unpaid consultancy position of his own. While we were there, the usual horde of folks descended on the place, threatening the intimacy of my virtual interview witnessed by a couple of close friends.

The following interview in no way reflects the opinion of USC, the NCAA, the Pac-10, the ADA, CDA, TCDC…or Judy Wong, Randy Wang, or anyone else associated with that shifting pile of dirt we in Temple City affectionately call “The Piazza (coming soon.)”

“Coach Pete, as always, it’s great seeing ya. Whaddya make of all these people mobbing us again?”

“Dr. V, can’t tell ya how stoked I am about getting together. It’s totally awesome how much I learn about football and dentistry when we hang out. And I’ve been reading all your stuff and lovin’ it. Just between you and me, you gotta ask (LA Times’ sportswriter) Plaschke, “Who’s your Daddy?”

“Wow coach, thanks for the kind words; just my humble way of giving back…without coaching. But what about all these people?”

“Young Jack, gotta tell ya, it’s amazing and it’s totally cool. Everyone here is from A Better LA. I just did that “The Secret” thing on the way over here and they all showed up. Unbelievable! Awesome!!!” Bet ya Neuheisel could never pull that one off.”

“So Coach Pete, how’re we gonna do this year?”

“J-Von, it’s awesome you asked that cool and perceptive question. This is the most athletic, passionate, and intelligent group of young men we’ve ever had at USC. They could be special. I’m just a little confused over the quarterback position…

“Pete, stay with Aaron Corp.”

“Jackson! The final piece of the puzzle! I hear you’re still the foremost dentist/writer/elite athlete in the San Gabriel Valley. How am I ever gonna repay you for your awesome unpaid consulting and mentoring?”

“Careful there coach. Just keep on doing what you’re doing, especially making such a huge difference for all the Inner City folks who crashed our interview. As for Villaraigosa over there, he can take care of himself. But there’s just this one thing, if you could… I’ve always wondered.

“J-Dawg, you name it!”

“Pete, is that really gray hair? Are those black roots?”

“Bite me, molar jockey.”

When teeth whitening debuted around 1990, I tried-out the approach on friends, relatives, and team members. Shucks, most of the relatives in question had already survived my early clinical efforts in dental school so I knew they could probably survive a little dose of hydrogen peroxide.

And yeah, at first, I thought teeth whitening was pretty superficial, shallow stuff. But it didn’t take long for me to adjust my opinion. Firstly, teeth whitening was a slam-dunk; it worked and it was safe.

I had no idea where whiter, brighter smiles would lead. As it turned out, folks who’d stayed away from the dentist the way the Clippers stay away from the play-offs, began to trickle in, open wide, and catch up.

So because of teeth whitening, oral cancers were detected, gum disease was diagnosed, and hypertension was measured; folks were reconnected with their oral health; some lives were even saved. But I had no idea how many future lives would be touched.

This week marks the twelfth year of Smiles for Life (SFL). Back in 1998, Doc Jeff Gray (one of my DDS buddies from down in San Diego,) came up with the idea of dentists providing teeth whitening to patients at reduced fees with all the proceeds going to charity. Like me, Jeff is a member of Crown Council, a national organization of progressive dental practices also committed to giving back to the community.

With the backing of Crown Council and the support of Extreme Makeover Doc Bill Dorfman and his company Discus Dental, Smiles for Life was born. And in the last 11 years Crown Council practices have raised over $25 million, with all proceeds going to help children in the areas of health, education, and the inner city. Today, our SFL partner is Garth Brooks. Half of the money raised is distributed through Brooks’ Teammates for Kids Foundation; the other half benefitting the local non-profit of a participating practice’s choice.

Alright, so I’m a USC grad and a total unapologetic USC Trojan football honk…and I’m proud of it. And if you guys watch 60 Minutes, maybe you saw the feature on USC football coach Pete Carroll. 60 Minutes wasn’t interviewing Carroll regarding his huge success on the football field even though his relentlessly positive approach and unique commitment to “winning forever” and coaching to build young players up would seemingly warrant a spot on the show. The piece was more about Carroll’s late night coaching in dangerous neighborhoods only a short distance away from the USC campus.

In 2003, Coach Pete founded A Better LA; since 2006, Carroll has made 1 AM visits to the now mean streets of my early childhood without security or fanfare. Coach Carroll wants to create hope by inspiring people who are leaders to lead powerfully, not destructively. “Each person holds so much power within themselves that needs to be let out. And sometimes they just need a little nudge, a little direction, a little support, a little coaching. And you know, the greatest things can happen.”

When asked if he really believed the above quote, Carroll replied, “No, I know that’s true. I know that’s true. I’ve seen it. I’m livin’ it.” Sergeant Curtis Woodle, a 13-year veteran of L.A. gang wars agrees and gives Carroll’s group credit for helping reduce the murder rate. “He’s actually rejuvenated me as a police officer. He’s actually given me hope,” Woodle said.

So this year, starting March 1 and running through June, you can join Temple City Dental Care and make a difference for Pete Carroll’s A Better LA and the too many kids who aren’t really that confident about their chances of living into adulthood. You’ll be donating a check to Smiles for Life and even more importantly, you’ll be making an offering of hope.

Why not have a brighter smile and something truly powerful to smile about?

Pete Carroll’s 60 Minutes’ interview can be seen at www.cbsnews.com.

Learn more about A Better LA at www.abetterla.com and Smiles for Life at www.smilesforlife.org.

I realize oral cancer gets its share of space around here and I was a little concerned about my maybe just going through the motions. I think I was also feeling self-conscious about being repetitious or perhaps just a bit short on material.

When I started out writing for the Weekly I really didn’t like my chances for coming up with a topic every single week. I wondered exactly what was in store for the readers after about Week Eight. I soon developed a routine or ritual where I would go see a movie Friday afternoon and then write the article. Something about being moved by what I saw on the big screen (if I wasn’t moved, I rented a favorite that would do the job) inspired me to look at the past week with a fresher perspective. This morning was sort of like Week Seven…until I remembered a certain video.

Back in early 2001 I had the opportunity to listen to baseball Hall of Fame announcer Joe Garagiola speak about major league baseball and one ugly aspect of its culture. Joe was speaking to about 2,000 dentists and dental team members, asking for their help in creating greater awareness of oral cancer and its link with smokeless or spit tobacco. Joe was very passionate in communicating his vision of preventing a deadly cancer that had claimed the lives of friends and former teammates; he definitely had our attention. Then he played a video.

The video I first saw almost 5 years ago and then again this morning is called “Tragic Choice: The Bob Leslie Story”.

The 10-minute film begins with Bob Leslie sharing his boyhood thoughts regarding what it would take for him to grow into an athlete and a strong, capable man. A 12 year-old Leslie was fascinated by the round tin container most major leaguers carried around in their uniform back pocket. A young Bob Leslie always wondered, “What is it? What’s in there? Is it the difference?”

Bob Leslie began using spit tobacco when he was only twelve and continued using it into his mid-20s. Couldn’t have been that bad; back in the ‘80s, marquee professional athletes actually endorsed the stuff on network television. Besides, Bob was an athlete and the picture of clean-cut wholesome health.

Five months after quitting spit tobacco, Leslie, then a high school baseball coach, was diagnosed with oral cancer. A lesion was discovered inside his lower lip and in the exact location where he had held his spit tobacco for 14 years. Bob, who had married his high school sweetheart; was diagnosed with oral cancer just before learning he was going to be a dad.

The treatment for oral cancer can be extremely invasive and disfiguring. In Bob Leslie’s case, it meant the removal of his chin and lower teeth. When asked by Garagiola about when he was most aware of his cancer, Leslie replied, “…when I wake up in the morning I realize it’s still there. When I look into the mirror…” He added, “At night… when I look over at my wife, I wonder just how many more times this will be possible.”

When the invasive surgery was performed a second even more crushing diagnosis followed. The cancer had grown out into tissue and up through a nerve to the base of Bob’s skull and brain. On hearing the bad news Leslie put in calls to friends and family asking for their support in helping his wife and daughter after he was gone. Bob Leslie was 27.

Bob was thankful for the 6 months he’d shared with his new daughter; he was committed to making a difference for others; he was determined to help save some lives. Working with Joe Garagiola, Bob made a video. Dare you to watch it.

After surviving several painful years, Bob Leslie died some 5 months short of his 32nd birthday.

I keep seeing the image of Bob Leslie as the 12 year-old who wanted to be a major leaguer. I wonder how many of us could have been Bob Leslie?

Oral cancer is serious stuff. Bob Leslie died within 5 years of diagnosis; the 5-year survival rate of about 50% for oral cancer is less than that of breast cancer, prostate cancer and colorectal cancer. Oral cancer is the only cancer not to decline in its incidence over the last 40 years. One American dies of oral cancer every hour. 25% of the 30,000 Americans diagnosed with oral cancer every year do not smoke, drink alcohol excessively, or use spit tobacco. In the U.S., only 14% of the population knows they’ve ever had an oral cancer exam.

Even though we don’t think of Southern California as a place where people use spit tobacco, some personal connection is made each time I speak and most of the time when I’m just doing an oral cancer exam in the office. Feel free to call for information any time.

So I grew up with only a handful of friends and who knows; maybe that’s why I was drawn to dentistry? And maybe there really is a reason for everything and maybe a few decades spent with only one mouth running (in my sleep, on the driving range, in front of my checkbook, etc.) was part of some grander design? Might be that grander design is the perfection of the virtual interview.

And so once again I give you CBS curmudgeon extraordinaire, Mr. Andy Rooney. Andy virtually called up Temple City Dental Care (TCDC) last week and asked for a post Election Day/ post USC loss to The Fighting Beavers apocalypse interview. Like I’ve shared here before, Andy’s always been a no-nonsense hero of mine; and he still asks a ton of open-ended questions. Rooney would still like to know why Chihuahuas, Sean Penn, and former smokers have such a huge chip on their shoulder and he also questions why a dang tooth brushing approach has such a self-important, high falutin’ name like the Modified Bass Technique (sounds like the World War II invasion of Colorado or something for cryin’ out loud.)

As always, the brief interview transpired right in front of El Pollo Loco and things went well in the absence of senior citizen discount Nazi, La Polla Loca (Rooney knows I only have to outrun him, not Ms. Loca.)

The opinions expressed in the interview in no way reflect those held by CBS, the BCS, TCDC…or God forbid, the Tribune.

“Andy, welcome back to Temple City; it’s really exciting having you back in town. Too bad you missed our election; we actually had a tie for third place and instead of recounting the 42 votes in question, the two bronze medalists just flipped a coin!”

“Von Bulow, are you gonna ask me a question or what?

“Okay Andy, I’m really interested in hearing your take on the election. I know you’ve seen it all: the Great Depression, World War II and everything since. But did you ever dream you’d see President-elect Obama?”

“Young Jack, I think this election might be one of the most pivotal this country has had; right in there with Lincoln’s and FDR’s in ‘32. And no, I wasn’t around covering the Lincoln-Douglas debates in 1858.”

“No need to get snippy Roonster; but what about Mike Wallace? I bet he was around; wonder if Stephen A. really had that fluffy Mohawk-doo that shows up on the Internet? But really Andy, what’s your take?”

“Dr. V, this election moved me. When I was born in 1919, my life expectancy was less than age 55. I’m very grateful to still be around and not only witness history, but actually get paid to write and talk about it.”

“Jackson, I understand you’re still the foremost DDS/elite athlete in the San Gabriel Valley, may I ask you a question? What about health care?”

“Andy, I’ll limit my response to dentistry. Keep your dental health preventive, use your dental benefits in ’08 or lose ‘em, and look for interest-free deals on stuff you’ve always wanted. But now Andrew, your thoughts?”

“JVB, 47 million folks without health insurance and millions more without enough of it is a disgrace. The cost of health insurance to employers for employees really calls for commitment and sacrifice, sometimes at risk to the business itself. Leaving the transformation of the system to the private sector alone is like putting the Crips in charge of collecting property taxes. The government needs to be responsible and play a role.”

“Just two more questions for you Andrew; are those your real eyebrows and have you ever heard about teeth whitening?”

“Look Von Bulow, I’m 89 years old; leave me alone. Bite me Molar Jockey!”

The only class I ever cut south of Jefferson was “History of Dentistry.” Yet, where was the love? If the class had been ‘History of Dental School” I know I would have shown up; because things must have been way more fun back before Doc “wrath of” Kahn arrived.

Used to be dental school was like some kind of molar jockey boot camp. Instead of “Good morning Jack” you might get, “You freakin ungrateful, untalented, brain-dead little scumbag maggot, what in the hell did you do to destroy this perfectly innocent, beautiful virgin tooth! CAN YOU HEARRR ME!!!?” Well, I guess that one wasn’t so bad; and maybe I just remember the good times because my mom was the patient. I dunno, we were all lower than whale droppings and teeth were beautiful, sexy virgins. No wonder it took me about ten years in practice to start feeling comfortable as a dentist. No wonder it took another ten to be comfortable alone with my own teeth.

Significant numbers of students were unhappy; the place was totally no fun at all. On the good days, students and faculty seemed to retain a mutual hateful adversarial relationship. We wore little zip-up barbershop smocks and the instructors had starched whites with three red Sergeant stripes on one sleeve; most of ‘em walked around with kind of a Dental Drill Instructorish cocky swagger…even when they were wearing white belts and white shoes (and trust me, that fashion statement even looked stupid in the 70s.) If it had been up to me, I’d have never made eye contact with the Warden, uh; I mean the Dean…or about 80% of the instructors.

A kinder, gentler, immeasurably smarter dean once told me he was way more inclined to lose sleep over the 10% of students who really enjoyed dental school back during Disco. And when you think about it, Pvt. Pyle from the film Full Metal Jacket never seemed very happy during his boot camp…until he went nuts.

The school produced excellent clinicians who could do the limited available restorative procedures really well but with the exception of the nutty 10% plus a few super well-adjusted individuals, most folks left school and didn’t want to come back. We learned the right way and the only way. I also learned the highway.

As time passed and exciting, innovative technologies were sweeping across the dentistry landscape, USC’s vision remained narrow; the school didn’t keep up. If you don’t look too hard, you’ll find a City of Temple City metaphor. But the good news is there’s still hope.

Today, the USC School of Dentistry is back where it belongs. The school is among the most progressive in the land, has world class leaders, retains first class faculty, and, believe it or not, happy students. The school is an inclusive culture embracing other learning disciplines ranging from bio-engineering to molecular biology and stem cell research to applied kinesiology and physical and occupational therapy. Today, Harvard University and USC are the only U.S. dental schools using Problem-Based Learning, an educational system emphasizing communication and a cooperative approach to finding solutions. The school has also made an impressive commitment reaching out to the community. I’ve never been prouder of my alma mater than when I visited the USC Mobile Dental Clinic in Santa Clarita and saw students making a difference for low income folks and obviously being moved and inspired by the experience. And having fun working together on a Saturday morning.

So after staying close to home for about twenty years, I also started removing the blinders and becoming more open and inclusive. By the time USC started turning things around, I had put on some major miles in search of continuing education of all kinds; took me about two decades to figure out there was a lot of stuff out there I didn’t know I didn’t know. Even wound up being a faculty member for an organization called Dental Boot Kamp. Ironically, this brand of Boot Kamp taught, among many other things, that folks retain information a lot better while they’re having fun.

Today, our practice works with chiropractors, applied kinesiologists, nutritionists, physical therapists and personal coaches. And one day I finally even managed a smile while looking the current Dean in the eye. The opportunity came shortly after my critical letter and his subsequent invitation to have a conversation. While we toured the D-school, I couldn’t help noticing the Dean greeting every student, faculty member, and non-faculty employee with a first name and a smile. I had to pinch myself.

It might be because of all those years of me listening to humming/ squealing power tools but I just don’t remember that many upbeat student-faculty encounters while we were writing our own chapter in the History of Dentistry.

But the best news; we also have those conversations everyday with our patients. And there’s more to come. And it’s fun. Even though the Basketball Trojans are being investigated.