Ladies and gentlemen, today I sound an urgent alarm about a creeping danger which is growing unnoticed within our very lives. I am talking about: our teeth. A subject I have long forgotten and you probably long neglected. I am not sure if this only happens to me; my visits to dentist has always been eventful but never cheap. I tried the posh up-market version, kampung version, affordable-to-all version. I don’t mean to flaunt on what I can afford but to check the difference in pain level. I am also not refering to the physical pain but the monetary notion. The truth, at the end of each visit, is the likelihood that you will experience both the pains. I am not going to tell you which one hurts more; it is for you to guess and for me to decide my next dentist.
Amazingly, today I went back to my very first up-market dentist in Hong Kong. Yup, my last visit was back in 1998 at a time when others struggled and grumbled being burnt in the stock market. It was a time while others complained most about dwindling wealths; and I bittered my way out of a doom’s marriage. Ten years on, they still keep my file in delicate condition amongst other things albeit losing a few teeth in the process. 
As I trooped unsteadily to my dentist’s clinic, I was greeted with two smiling lasses at the reception desk. I couldn’t help but to wonder the condition of their teeth, perfectly flawless. No wonder they can afford to smile so beamingly and so effortlessly. I was escorted by a petite lady claiming to be my hygienist with pleasing manners. She is cute, I thought but not until she grines my teeth did I realise how tough small lady can be! She explained patiently how complicated the scaling can be, how long it would be and worst of all…….what the next round is to be. The next round is about deep scaling as I am suffering from early stage of gum disease called gingivitis. I don’t know why, but none of my other siblings seem to have any history of dental problems. I am the only exception!
I was a bit worried but this soon disappeared since I reasoned out that I am at her mercy as she grines, drill, polish and air abrase my teeth in just under one hour or a bit more. She must be the only person to scale my teeth so incessantly ruthless. But she did a good job by scaling out those stubborn plaque and tartar in sizeable pieces (don’t even think of saying something bad, I am not asking for an opinion here!!!). The other dentist (that’s round 2 unfortunately) is probably my hygienist mentor because she is equally nice. Within a few minutes I was seated and readily continued the whole process of sufferings again. This time the doctor pricked each teeth down to the jaw bones. Each time reading out, MB21 or LB23 or whatever. To me, knowing the meaning is meaningless but when will they finished is my question. 
My dentist was checking the teeth near the wisdom teeth and discovered something. “Your wisdom tooth is loosening” she said. Huh? meaning? I said to myself, more money!!!! According to her, I could have it or have it removed. To which having it is of no usage but adds the bad breathe. I felt like asking her which was cheaper but thought this was a silly question to ask. A few minutes later she was removing my tooth. Of course there were other factors that prompted me to have the tooth removed. One being the last of my once four wisdoms and the other being she did not have to make a big incision or cut bone in order to extract that tooth.
All of this was done of course in the background of Louis Armstrong music, National Geographic above me and the chatting of the two dentists, who did the whole show as a tag team. Interestingly, dentists love to chat about small things in front of their patients. Pretty bizarre if you ask me. “don't worry it will soon be over. Now where was I, ah…. Mrs. Sledgehammer…she couldn't hold her mouth open, we had to use a jack to stop her mouth closing. I am not sure why….but the last time we got the wrong tooth out during the confusion……hehehe don't you think it funny (poking your cheek)??” The only time they were silent was when something critical was done like half way between chiselling and sawing your tooth. This happened to be my observation in my many many unwelcome dental visits.
I am glad to add, it did not turn into a scene from the Marathon Man although it was almost there during my scaling. Imagine the dentist speaking in deep german accent and asking “Is it safe?” For those who have watched this thrilller you will understand what I mean...Dr. Christian and poor old Babe. The moral of the story is never visit a german dentist!!! nevermind what William Goldman wrote.
The whole dental pilgrimage lasted for many than 3 hours. I did feel the pain, the music, the small talks of the dentist (shut-up please), the numbness due to the liberal injections of local anaesthesia and a pinching lost of my last savings (for Xmas)!! With that, I lost the last of my limited wisdom. I suppose henceforth I can act a bit whacky and stupidier (I am not asking for an opinion here) than before. I also read somewhere that when one is troubled by one’s wisdom teeth one gets a gem of wisdom for each wisdom tooth extract. True? I don’t know but I paid $6770 to my dentist. Guess who lost the tooth and who gets the gem?
When I young I used to wonder what it would be like to be an adult and the many thrills of having money in your wallet. It was a time when it’s no fun being a kid and all you hear were instructions, restrictions and more counter instructions. The idea of ‘fun’ just doesn’t exist and even if it does, it would be the barest ‘fun’ with no fun attached. Now that I am an adult (hmm…. no, middle age should be more appropriate), I realized it’s no better being an adult either. I still don’t have money in my pocket; ‘fun’ is still in the barest form. How unfortunate! Even the infamous “It’s about time. It’s about Change” hardly adds to the fun.
Having talked to my daughter and my niece, I now realize that one can receive the same level of excitement and satisfaction by simply gluing oneself to the chair next to a cafe and start surfing. Surfing can make you slave 24 hours a day, seven days a week, and if you are lucky, you get a reward; you can start to surf again. I am not against surfing, but not to the extent of surfing meaninglessly. I can’t say we spent, back in those wonderful days, quality time. We don't have computer, never-mind the lap top, all we had were counting cars based on pure memory. Yes, we also slave 24 hours a day, seven days a week, and if we are lucky, we get a reward; we made someone count for us.
Yes, life was indeed much simpler then. Even the songs were composed differently. You can hear each word (now, take this from me….words we think are not necessary words they sung) and hummed along effortlessly. You actually listen patiently, and to the mercy of the DJs to play the song you want. These days, you simply download any songs; erase them when you get tired of listening. Back in the old days, you have two choices either you wait for the heartless DJ to play your song or you buy the vinyl version. And in those days, I hear nobody complaining about sound quality. Amplifying it through a 5 ft loudspeaker is probably more important. And, strangely I hear no one singing in the toilet these days. Certainly not my daughter or the people belonging to her generation. So if you hear some flat tones coming somewhere near the toilet, you can be doubly sure that person is uncle or aunty without making any sensible guess.
Apart from the audio advancement, I have a strong passion and affiliation on the video part. My daughter’s impression of video is the DVD player, until I show her the monster projector. I had a tough time explaining to her the rattling sounds, burning of films and the sound system being camouflaged by an equaling loud generator. But more importantly, I managed to explain the open air cinema I experienced as a child. What about the mosquitoes and the rain, she asked. Yes, unfortunately the light from the projector attracted plenty insects and the screen are for most of the time covered with shadows of the insects. I can’t remember much about the rain especially during the monsoon months.
Sorry, it wasn’t me singing from the toilet!!!!
Coming in close at the second place is none other than the Jewish. You may have read why people of this race were shot, gassed or hung by the Nazi. What they hadn’t bothered were the details as to why such measures were singularly brought up just for the single race of Jews. According to unreliable researchers from the lesser known University of Frankfart, an unofficial archive suggested that the Jews were killed primarily for seeking refuge and overstaying in domiciles of their hosts. In this case, sadly, the hosts were the Nazi. 
Anyway, I am writing this blog for my dear older ‘blur’ brother (oh yes, your kind younger sister’s word, not mine!), with the hope that he will not visit her for a lengthy over-extended stay. Her son, according to her own judgment, is a late rusher when it comes to exam preparation. Anyway, he is probably just about to start organizing his first major milestone in his quest for education. Leaving him alone is probably a good idea! What do you think, Mr. Unplanned Planner?
I also recalled, once upon a time in China many many years ago, where I would constantly wake up to the silent rhythm of music less exercise. Every morning of the week, groups of harmless looking people, comrades or even peasants would stand in deep concentration, arms raised above their heads practicing a form of exercise known as qigong. It involves controlled breathing and meditation. Literally millions of people around the world swear by it that it is good for the body even though all you did was to stand motionless for hours. Ironically, this is where you are able to achieve good health without running around and sweating profusely. Had you run and sweat, you are quite likely to end up taking a hefty breakfast of congee, noodles and some fried yau char kuai. And that really defeats the whole irony of exercise.
The other irony about this school of qigong is as fast as it comes; it became a subject of China’s fondness for demonising things it cannot control. Yes, Falungong was ban because the founder is from the US (again a bloody America) and China just wouldn't have it……..it just doesn't like anything controlled from another country. The irony is all good things in China must come to an end, an abrupt end if you are pedantic about the timing. And so…..the morning after, all the people, comrades or even peasants vanished. Some, I was told, from a totally unreliable sources, were send to the space programme since learning Falungong allows them the gift to control the level of oxygen intake to the body.
Strangely but truly one silly country in Asia is emulating the same feat on Yoga. What is so strange about people so bent on bending their limbs, articulating the joints and defying gravity? But some people in some quarters of some government agencies had this notion that this would be a bad thing. And, to be more ironic, they thought that the whole idea about yoga will somehow divert the religious belief if one keeps bending the unbendable part. I am not a Yoga expert but you can start bending any part of my body and limbs, toss them up and down, and still I won’t start tossing my head (left and right) and yell “aarche, dey yen na ne?” Nor would I hastily embraced Hinduism because of Yoga. That is not an irony, that is me being me and sound minded! And so are the many others who love bending themselves for no apparent reason. What do you have to ban them from bending?? 
Saying that, I did have the unpleasant 
