I feel old. This past Monday I had one of my upper front teeth removed. It has a been a problem ever since I broke it falling off a diving board at age 12 or 13 trying to show off for the Norton girls at the Motel swimming pool. God they were beautiful. The older one, probably around 16 at the time, had curves spilling out of her leapord print bikini. Or was it a zebra print? The younger, my age or so, was like a midwestern madonna. Together, they embodied the desires of most men. Sultry seductress, and angelic goodness all in one. Even though I couldn’t have had the knowledge to know that about men’s desire at the time, it was still powerful enough to sweep my feet off of that diving board and slam my face into the concrete.
The seductress struggled to find a foothold in life. Her father and mother had to abide bad relationships to nefarious characters; grandchildren to whom they had to act as parents; and constant restarts of her life plan. The madonna married a wealthy Pakistani, made little brown babies, and ultimately moved to Pakistan.
Anyway, the tooth is out, and its just another reminder of the waning telemeres. The dentist made a temporary prosthetic tooth but I’m not wearing it now. I took it out yesterday evening and haven’t put it back in yet. I’m just sitting here feeling old.
