Fun in the Sun

We took a spontaneous trip to Arizona a few weeks ago and everybody had a blast. Specifically, Bennett and Asher loved being around so many doting family members and some awesome expat friends, and outside every spare minute. Clothes were sparse, sunshine was plentiful, pee was distributed on the cinder block fence, and smiles were abundant. Here is a photographic essay prepared by Kim to prove all these statements.















Bennett with Conrad Birdie hair.

Bennett with baguette.

Bennett with Asher.
Spooning/wrestling brothers

Hand with Screw

In case anyone is as curious as I was, the drilling was done by hand with a tool that looks sort of like a screwdriver with a drill bit instead of a normal head. The screw is titanium and self-tapping, and was inserted with a screwdriver. And this is what it looks like in its new home:

It will stay in my scaphoid forever.

social pressure

What I am about to admit, though it probably will not come as a shock to those who know me well, is a little unconventional and even incriminating. So this is the "point of no return" for those who wish their perception of me to stay the same.

The setting was a familiar one: sunny Saturday midday in Danville, California, making our way down busy freeways to do our monthly shopping at Costco (no, this is not about shopping again). I'm perusing the stack of coupons Kim has so meticulously clipped in preparation for our excursion. Dishwasher detergent, Flintstones vitamins, ranch dressing, Crest whitestrips... Whitestrips?

For those of you unfamiliar with modern teeth-makeover technology, these marvels of chemical engineering and material science are essentially a do-it-yourself bleaching process for your teeth. The goal, of course, is to get a set like these:


In case you were wondering, this is the first image Google pulls up when you search for "white teeth." But similar hues can be found in abundance if you do some random sampling through the magazines at the grocery checkout, or network television, or anywhere that Americans with purchasing power are found. I think it would be safe to call the relationship between my society and white teeth an obsession. I didn't have time to get the data, but we'll have to settle for imagining all the money spent on teeth color by contemporary America. Added up, how does it compare with other sums--the budget for the fusion energy program, the defense spending of Belgium, the anti-AIDS movement, etc?

Getting back to the story, I called attention to the seemingly misplaced coupon, and Kim's reply was tentative.

"What do you think about those?"

"You can buy them."

Pause.

Me again: "But I will not use them."

This is where over five years of marriage and a lot of practice helped us, as we both carefully avoided a "discussion" that would most likely offend one or both of us and certainly destroy any chance of a pleasant shopping experience (Costco was ridiculously crowded and devoid of good samples, and we spent way too much money, so it ended up not that pleasant anyway, but that's not the point). Instead, we smiled lovingly at each other and pulled into the parking lot. The mutual smile was actually an important point, because it was at this moment that the self-consciousness kicked in: if my wife is suggesting that I use artificial whiteners for my teeth, I can only infer that her desire to change them means she finds them unattractive. And while my teeth are admittedly not the same brightness as the dental marketing industry would want them to be, I had never really thought of them as "yellow." The connotations run deep.

So then I tried to identify the source of my defensiveness and stubborn refusal to have my exterior altered by chemicals. After all, I willingly abide by a number of social mores--I bathe frequently, shave my face, stand at a reasonable distance when I talk to someone and refrain from touching their shoulders or hair, etc. And to be fair, Kim doesn't ask too much. Here are a few potential cosmetic procedures she could require of me: liposuction, calf implants (or ex-plants in my case), laser hair removal, tanning, weight gainer, mole removal (although she tried), and clothes with price tags above $20. So the reason for my response was a mystery. But for whatever reason, I decided then and there that I would not be using Crest Whitestrips. Ever.
Since making that decision, Kim found out that the box at Costco costs over $20 even with the coupon, and that pretty much put an end to the issue. When you're on a budget, philosophical positions are sort of irrelevant. It's like me having a strong opinion on the relative merits of Lexus and Mercedes-Benz automobiles.

However, I did do some more thinking, and have arrived at a few more reasons for not using the Whitestrips:

• Because the conditions of teeth vary so much across cultures, I have to assume that our current fixation on whiteness is fleeting. And it would be a shame to put a lot of effort into white teeth, just to find out all the movie stars were switching to yellow.
• Cultural quirks are usually absurd from an outside, objective point of view. Example: in Portugal, everyone over age 50 believes with certainty that eating an orange and drinking milk will cause instantaneous death. (We had a blast watching horrified reactions)
• The teeth, as the only visible part of the human skeleton, get an unfair rap. Even if the technology were available, you wouldn't bleach your femur, would you?