Have you noticed that in literature and myth teeth are a metaphor for power?

As we know, I'm perfectly willing to complain at great length about other people complaining about aging. But that doesn't mean that I myself don't mind aging. Au contraire, I mind it very much. Not because I fear the inevitability of my own death—the idea of ceasing to exist doesn't bother me, because once I'm dead, I won't care, so why be upset about it now?—although the thought of any of my loved ones shuffling off the mortal coil truly gives me the heebie-jeebies. A deeply selfish attitude, I know. And my distaste for the aging process is based on an equally selfish and shallow reason: I want to look good, and generally speaking, young people look better than old people.

Last week, I was reading an article in Slate Magazine about different kinds of wrinkles and how they form. It was decorated with before and after photos of Paul McCartney: the young. fresh, yummy-looking Beatle, and the wrinkly old Sir Paul.  Two things caught my attention about Sir Paul: first, he looks a little like my mom, with those high cheekbones; and second, boy, are his teeth yellow. Quickly reverting to the Me view of the universe, I wondered if my teeth looked that yellow, and if I looked that wrinkly and old (but without the palliative effect of an MBE).

So later that very same day, I found myself in the dental care aisle of Target, dazzled, as it were, by the variety of choices for the whitening of one's teeth. There are pastes, there are gums, there are little bottles of paint, there are strips, there are devices. It's not a good place for the green conscience, because mostly there's lots and lots of packaging. I stifled my eco-guilt and selected a largish plastic box of strips guaranteeing me whiter teeth in just seven days.

Eager to recapture youth and beauty, I rushed home and tore open the wrapper of the box, which contained four packages of seven individually wrapped blue strips for the upper and lower teeth, to be applied twice daily for 30 minutes. Two minutes later my trash can was full to the top with packaging, and my teeth were encased in blue waxy gel. Youth and beauty,here I come!

Seven days later, my teeth are a more attractive creamy color, an obvious improvement over their tannic pine look of last week. It was definitely worth it. But I did learn two lessons.

First, you can't answer the phone when you have the strips in. There's no way to talk without sounding like Sylvester the Cat. The library called the first morning I was wearing them to let me know I had (once again) returned a DVD case with no disc inside. Of course I immediately apologized, but you try saying you're so sorry with a mouthful of wax. I'm sure the librarian thought I was trying to weasel out of something, even though I did return the disc later that day.

Second, if you feel annoyed or irritated, do not clench your teeth. If you do, the upper wax strip will meld with the lower, and your teeth will remain clenched until your 30 minutes are up. Until then, you really can't talk at all, or even move your jaw. It's very tedious, but it does remind you to make sure your yard is free of rusty nails and other tetanus dangers.

I'm sure I'll have to do a tune up in a few months, but in the meantime, I'm trying to toss back my daily caffeinated beverages past my teeth without touching them. And there are lessons to be learned there, too....

Comments

[Jayne]

I bought some of these once but neglected to keep up the regimen. Nice to know they work. I finally had the dentist do it about five months ago when I needed a front crown replaced. That's a LOT more expensive! I'll try the box again next time.

(oh, and you can always drink your coffee/wine/tea through a straw! Nothing like hot coffee shooting to the back of your throat first thing in the morning)

[orange county tooth withening]

Nice article! keep up the good work.

-heather-