Nature’s Lousy Service Warranty (A Birthday Story)
So maybe I’m a little sensitive about another birthday, okay? But what’s the big deal with questions like “Is this one special?” or “How old are you now anyway?” I wanna know how my vital stats make a world-class difference for others? And even if they did, what’s in it for me?
I’ll tell ya right now, if any of you are VP Cheney rude enough to ask, you’ll get a lie in response. And it’s your own dang fault. Any questions?
Sometimes nature has an over-underestimated sense of humor and there you have my long overdue tribute to President Dubya. Yeah, if son of Big George and I were both 75, we’d look pretty good for our age. But there are some telltale Nature jokes/subtleties that give us away and make our old beat-up classmates feel totally better about themselves.
And thank God for Mick Jagger. As long as the Stones are touring I can sometimes forget the high school reunions I attend that now look like nostalgic shindigs for survivors of the Crimean War or the Black Sox scandal…or maybe the last successful powder puff blue bruin football squad.
Everyone gives Nature such rave reviews. What impeccable engineering! What beauty of form! Such balance and symmetry! What powers of adaptability! Blah, blah, blah. For one thing, as birthdays move along, you don’t hear too much about “What awesome plumbing!”
Anyway, hate to sound bitter and all but I wonder if the divine powers that be contract out maintenance to the County or maybe the TC City Planners. Starting out at about seven dog years Nature seems to take on a sense of humor that could also pass as tribute to Doc House, Don Rickles, or the sicko who came up with, “Clippers! Play loud!!!”
As an elite athlete/DDS/author who has hair seeking the shadier confines of ever growing ears and nostrils, I’ll share my unique perspective. And I’ll even make it educational.
You tell me why teeth always have to be moving. Nice engineering my foot! By Dog Year VII, lower front teeth start looking like an Alhambra intersection at 6:15 (AM or PM.)
And why do teeth have to get darker and yellower as we age? Is it because old folks really like brown shirts?
This one really gets me. Why less saliva and more phlegm? At least saliva doesn’t make noise.
And the older we get, the more likely it is we’ll suffer from tooth decay…again. I can only hope the pimples don’t come back too.
We get lizard lips. Our teeth get smaller. Our tongues get bigger but our taste buds work like Shaquille in the off-season (almost forgot, the Moby Dick tongue can be quite the noisemaker at nights while it gets in the way of some very cool stuff…like breathing.) Even George Carlin never trusted people with little teeth and big gums. Look in the mirror.
Our bite can lose its memory but that’s not too important if you live in Kentucky where only the Lexington elite have any teeth left by Dog Year VII.
So don’t even think about asking me something dumb like, “How many candles on the birthday cake?” But I will let you check my teeth; they’re awesome.
I guess the moral of this story is, while BMW has a service warrantee, Nature does not. See your dentist if you’re old or planning on it because nature gave us an 8 Dog Year-old president with wooden teeth, no cheeks and lizard lips. And if Nature would do that to the Father of our Country, what would Nature do to bruin fans.
