Misplaced Pride: Bad Teeth

Somehow by accident, I misplaced pride upon my horrible disgusting mouth.  It happened a while ago without me noticing, right around the time I decided to do something about it, and created a light at the end of my ugly mouth tunnel.  Since I’ve been thinking about how bad my teeth are, I’ve felt the need to tell others.  Things nobody wants to hear.

I am a man writing towards a book on the power of the smile, and I have none of my own. I am not like the sad clown who’s makeup keeps him sad, but rather my very happiest full effort smile, is a flat lime without opening lips.  I don’t smile.

I never like pictures of me.  In them, my mouth is always closed, and that shows less happiness.  Other people may not light up in my presence without showing teeth.  This period in my history will always show me as – not sad.  I’m not frowning, but my smile is a straight closed lip line.   In the rare pictures wher I may have a happy open mouth smile, I see the yellow ugliness that is my teeth.  Not better.

White teeth are all the rage now.  50 products exist to help whiten your smile, and any Dentist will take your money.  Well, not my money.  Mine is beyond that trick.  Hollywood and TV have taught us everyone has a nice white toothy perfect smile, now even more than when I was young.  Even 39 day old island “Survivors” wearing dirty handkerchiefs as clothes have clean white teeth.

I know it to be true for myself, but I suspect everyone is effected by a good smile.  Smile alone almost gave one survivor her deserved million.

I have been talking way to much about my elephant tusks in the room. I have been dreaming nightmares of esteem of how people feel about my smile and teeth based mostly on how much I personally am effected, both by a smile and equally by an ugly… Or to honest, even a slightly flawed smile. I literally FEEL a great smile, and am distracted and bothered by an imperfect smile.  I have a few friends with poor smiles, but NONE like mine.  I have a hobo smile.  I can’t honestly believe everyone isn’t bothered by it.  Looking at me while I talk must be hard.

I will soon have the life change, of false teeth.  Not as some suggested, fake prop fangs, but full old fashioned top and bottom dentures.

I am torn between the optimistic belief that it will be something I adapt to, rather that live the rest of my life in painful regret.  I would hate having a beautiful smile that drove me crazy with pain or discomfort.  I have hope they’ll be great, and simultaneously fear they’ll be horrible.  I am stressed. I imagine both positive and negative futures post dentures.  Doing nothing is no longer an option, but it does have the advantage of not risking a worse future.  However, now doing nothing means a worse future with pain and new teeth falling out.  It’s not an option. 

It it goes well, I get a new smile and those I know will adapt as if I was wearing a toupee everyone knew about.  I will look better to the new.  The best I can hope for is not to be worthy of odd stares or distraction to my friends.  I know it will be an odd adjustment visually, but that isn’t the real fear. The real fear is that they’ll hurt, or be loose, or just feel horrible.  My mouth is a very important part of my happiness.  It crushes my food and helps me taste.  If it hurts, it’ll be hard to ignore.  Chronic pain for the rest of my life is a real fear.

The dark side assures me it wont be paradise. Pain, bleeding and swelling and a loose fit that might need goo. I hate goo. I have lived my life trying my best to avoid it.

It could take me mentally, a very long time to recover. I may actually not be ready for July 16

Or ever. I have written before of depression based on self loathing or just low self esteem.

I am hoping, but scared to take the risk. This is a serious surgery that will change my life, and the part that is scary is I am the one who’s running my own ship.  It could be bad.

I’m brought up that way. I always see the bad.

Canadian Star System

Canadians have less of a celebrity star system, but we’re getting there.
 
I can’t explain it, but people seem to enjoy watching actors they know.  With some exceptions, we seem to get over stereotyping, and want to see people we’ve seen in new roles on new shows or in new movies.  We get as much excitement out of small stars as we do big stars.  The only reason why some people are bigger starts worth more, is because more people will know them.

I don’t have kids, and I’ve never been married but I am old enough to do at least one thing I remember my parents doing.  It seems to be an age thing, but maybe I just see it that way now, being old.  I am aware of all the “when I was a kid” moments.  Things I do I saw my parents do, and thought I never would.
 
This is one of those.  When I watch a show or a movie, I get a thrill out of actor recognition.  I like to point out, often loudly the other roles an actor has been in.  I steal some pride too, if I am better at it than you… which sadly I seldom am, buy it still feels good to see somebody and know – or say; hey, that’s the dude from that Trek episode, or hemorrhoids commercial.

It’s also fun to watch old movies again and now recognize a whole slew of secondary characters from later roles. It’s a side game that adds value to the enjoyment package that is TV.

With the invention of the new online medium, we can not only view an even wider variety of re-casting opportunities of every budget, but we can also study up, or cheat – and use http://imdb.com – an online database of every role ever played by an actor.

Long before IMDB came about, I had books. I never read much fiction for pleasure, but I do own several consecutive years of Leonard Maltin’s gigantic movie book.  I’ll be honest, I almost shocked myself when I remembered that. I had a lot more books than I would have expected.  I was always a pop culture fan.

I watch shows and I see faces in the background. I see the desk Sargent or evidence locker guy, or lunch lady, cab driver or Bartender, and remember the roles they played in other shows, and feel some comfort and happiness.  I wonder why we don’t see it more.  why are a lot more roles not played by actors from other roles? Hollywood may mirror the music industry that way.  The business has to give is a balance of constantly new, mixed with the pleasure of familiarity. As the spectator, most people would be happy if all media was familiar old stuff.

I love the music I know. At my age, I could listen to an iPod for the rest of my life and even with no repeats, hear all my faves forever New music can be irritating till the seconds time. Like beer or olives. TV isn’t quite the same.  Movies need to be new to fuel the industry, and the TV season is based on new vs old, but even within new shows, we COULD use old familiar players.  If we didn’t hire a single new actor for 15 years, we’d probably start to get sick of seeing The same actors everywhere. At the start, I wanted to see more of it, but now I re-think and blog, I think maybe is just right.

Smarter people than me run the universe.

This post started with the idea that Canadians are catching up.  We have more and more Canadian actors that we do see in several shows.  Each new sitcom re-uses the best from the last.  Sketch comedy and commercials have people we could almost call STARS – at least in Canada.  The West Jet babe sells me Kraft Tex Mex cheese and the fat bearded guy is the fat bearded guy on four or five shows.

I am glad.  I like Canadians getting a better deal

Bankrupt AT&T

Could apple bankrupt AT&T ?

If people have a choice, I am led to believe that a lot of people, perhaps almost every iphone owner in the USA would rather have an iPhone on a better network than AT&T.  Many non AT&T users might switch and become iPhone users if they didn’t have to leave the network they are on now.

It seems to be the biggest reason people compalim

The iPhone in the USA is great at everything but making or keeping calls

But that’s just my judgement based on what I personally worked out

I know why the recent apple press event didn’t mention other cariers, despite rumours

AT&T need to sell the exclusive V4 and iPod HD for a while before you give comsimers choce. They could lose milioms.  But probably won’t. People have brand loyalty forced apon them by the boss.

12:38 on a Wednesday

Bertha is dying.

Bertha is the somehwhat shameful name given to my laptop by Syndi, because at the time I bought it, it was considered huge. Bertha seemed a “fat” name, and this was one of the first laptops I’d ever seen with a big screen and a keyboard so wide, it included a numeric keypad like the ones on my usual computer keyboard.

Buying Bertha was a purchase of pride, like all good gadgets are, to the boys keeping score. It was better than yours. Bigger and faster and better in the stats.

For the last few years, Bertha has been like a hurt child. She was injured while in the service of others. When she lost the ability to grip the power cable properly, and couldn’t regenerate, she faded away and was nearly gone. I spent the money to put her on life support by purchasing a special chair, much like the one the original Captain Pike ended up in. A docking station which tethers an alternate power connection. Life support in an odd frame that limits her mobility. She became a laptop that couldn’t be used in my lap.

After that, she became my bedside companion and confidant. I turned to her when I was depressed, or excited, or felt alone. She knew my secrets, and my videos. My personal blogs that never got published.

Bertha was special. The first and last of her class. A laptop with the power and size of a desktop, boasting a severely overpowered computer CPU running hot in a big laptop. They called her names, like desktop replacement to build her confidence, but these never really caught on.

Her blowing fan would heat my food with warm air, and occasionaly accidentally melt anything I absent minded left sitting beside her.

Her numbers looked great on paper, and I bought quickly as though love at first site. Emotion combined with a deal. A laptop the style and size I’d never seen, priced to impress. Of course in hindsight, I realize she was priced as a failure. A model discontinued right out of the factory, and shipped to wholesale outlets.

Betha has enjoyed a rich life before her disability. She has travelled with me socially and professionally. We’d been road buddies in cities where I worked conventions across Canada. I tattooed her with my Frogstar logo and we were constant companions on many adventures.

I remember one story, triggered by a photo on her drive, where I Bertha and I attended the opening day line up for one of the newer Star Wars movies, probably episode 1.  I knew this group of dedicated Star Wars costumers, and some had been in line for days. Bertha and I arrived and took enough photos to make a music video slide show, which Bertha was showing off to the line moments later. I had done video processing and production right there on the sidewalk in front of a movie theatre.

Now, she sits in her new home with me. Still by my bed, but running warmer than ever. She takes a lot longer to power on, and doesn’t respond well. Her fans whirr distractingly loud and everything is a chore. She mostly plays music now, or other bedtime media. I don’t blog on her because the time between idea and boot-up and Word can be six or seven minutes, and for me, that is way to long to hold a thought without distraction.

Tomorrow I may wipe her memory. Clean her out and give her a fresh new try at life… maybe Windows 7. We’ll see if it helps, or hurts more. I fear Bertha’s time may be over soon. I’ll be sad. I can’t afford her replacement so she’ll just go into a box somewhere.

Edit. How right I was. The next day while backing up her memory to another, she errored and failed. Now she won’t boot. Goodbye Bertha. We shared some good memories.

People Watching at the Toronto Eaton Center

People watching is fun if you just sit somewhere and do it.

The Eaton Centre is a strange mall, because it doesn’t have its own specific demographic like many of the smaller, less famous malls.  It contains everyone from everywhere.  It’s crowds are made up of tourists and locals; high end and low end, shopping, walking or meeting, or just transit goers up for a peek between subway and streetcar.

It is in Toronto’s social and tourist centre, and one of the only malls in Canada allowed to be open on holidays.

As I observe from a bench in one end of the mall, I see mostly couplings –social or romantic.  Few are alone like me, unless they’re waiting to couple, or oddly talking to themselves.  Few stay stationary as long as I have. I’ve seen them all come and go.

The single ones, on the phone making plans to no longer be single as soon as possible.  Despite the size and location, it seems everyone here has a purpose or goal. To shop visually or with with intent to buy, or to be somewhere else. Only I seem to be here for the experience of being here.

I have rested near the open area in front of what once was Eatons, on chairs I suspect are intentionally designed not comfortable enough to stay for long. I see people mostly coming in, or exiting the mall. Few are indecisive. They have a clear direction.

It is a Friday, past 8pm so there are 2 more hours of mall openness to make use of before doing whatever else they’re downtown for. Nobody seems dressed for nightlife yet… Perhaps they’re shopping for it, or just stalling for time.

As am I.

There is a scientific principle I can’t think of the name of just now, but essentially it claims the act of observation changes reality.  Now that I have been watching, I see things differently.  I notice my first observations may not be correct. The class of people is certainly more specifically middle/upper, and there are more singles than I first commented.

I notice one man leaving with 12 rolls of toilet paper under his arm.  I am surprised this mall is considered by some as the place to go when you need toilet paper. To some, this is their convenience store on the way home.  To me, I would never think; I need toilet paper… lets go to the Eatons Centre.  I briefly ponder what stores here even sell TP but i remember there is a Shoppers Drug Mart somewhere in the centre and realize its not that odd after all.  People either go out to buy TP when they need it, or they buy a big 12 roll pack when they’re shopping for something else.  For all I know, this guy has a Dristan in his pocket and he remembered he’s been using newspaper at home since Tuesday.  Shoppers Drug Mart sells essentials, so to those who live near, or use this transit hub, it is a logical stop.

I actually can’t imagine where else down here I would get it without a longer walk.

I have always been a car owner, and even when I lived on the subway line, I have always shopped by car. I don’t think like a downtown transit user. That’s why I’m here learning, observing, writing.  I understand a whole world exists where people who don’t drive must walk to buy things.  This is where downtowners shop.

There are many such worlds I can not fully imagine. When people watching, it is easy to stereotype and make assumptions, but when you actually try to understand random strangers, you quickly realize you can’t hope to. Our earth is full, and we only ever interact with a fraction. Those that differ enough from our norm are usually just casual acquaintances. We may know the hot dog vendors name, but we know nothing about his life.

For the most part, that’s how we like it.

When i focus on a stranger here, I am aware their universe is as full as my own, but the two may never meet. This is as true of foreign cultures as it is of people who look like me.

I have never met… or at least known, an assembly line worker, a taxi driver, or a brain surgeon.  That could be one right there, buying his toilet paper.

Convention Observations

I sit on a bench, watching people at a fan run authors convention in Toronto.  I see people walk around aimlessly, which makes me understand, and happy to realize it’s not just me.

Doing things alone sucks, because memories don’t get stored as well as stories.  One can see and maybe even participate, but until you interact, its almost pointless.

I sit here, writing on my cell phone with a teeny keyboard.  Recording what I observe… My lonesome way to storiy-ize the con experience for me.  My sights might make me smile, my words do not.  Writing a blog entry while sitting at a convention isn’t like sharing. It isn’t like being with somebody and pointing and smiling and laughing.  Well, I should not laugh AT people at a convention.  They’re supposed to be free of ridicule at a safe place like this, but sometimes they’re just funny.  Writing about it takes my eyes away from the fun, and actually makes me feel a little sad, not happy.

I seek a base buddy. One to tag along and turn sights into stories.   Make the memory into a story, better than just the experience.

To be true to myself, I get all weird in my head at events like this when I am alone. I think my purpose in life is at least partially, to make people smile. When I am alone, I feel without purpose. I feel weird. Not just alone, but without a companion, my experiences are not turned into stories.  This post is an attempt, but a weak one.  Notice how I am talking less about the convention, than the experience of being alone at the convention.

I get tearful. My eyes almost swell up, my stomach turns, and I want to run away fast. It is discomfort at a mental and physical state. As much as i enjoy observation, and take pride in my writing, I sit here knowing that it would actually be fun to be doing this with a partner, shared.

It is 11:15 in the morning now, on a day where I am scheduled to work a booth from noon to 4pm.  There, I will smile, and share stories from a different convention.  I’ll explain with happiness to con goers why this other convention is worth coming to, without offending or bashing the event we’re at.  That moment of work, is actually the fun part of my day.  I won’t be alone, and although my companions will be strangers I don’t actually know, they’ll come to me so I won’t have to worry about how to mingle or break the ice.

So I sit for a few more minutes, awaiting my transition from social to active duty.  I am not enjoying the convention experience alone.

Evolution Ramble

I would personally find it quite humorous if the future of our civilization allowed for the theory of evolution to continue, as it once did.  Society has intentionally slowed evolution, by mixing races, and coupling for life, which reduced births and population growth.  Humans don’t evolve like we once did.  I think we slowed evolution on purpose. 

Some humans would have us believe evolution never existed, and man has always been man.  They ignore how short we once were, or how quickly we died.  Even those who believe in evolution seem to think it has stopped.  Humans evolved to what we are and stopped.  

Some animals mate for life and some animals take several mates.  Humans are TOLD we are supposed to pick one mate, and make a go of it for life.  Only recently this idea has been challenged to the point where we TRY for life long mates, but get the chance to try a few times if we choose poorly.  Still, with a few cultural exemptions, we’re still told to have only one mate at a time.

I wonder… If the stories they tell are lies, and the concept of our instinctual coupling is fiction, then maybe one man, could get a town pregnant and evolution is fast.  Church, and stories convince us society couples, formally forever.If we study humans as we do snakes — or any other animals, we would see humans like an overpopulating parasite that destroys earth.  

If five or 10 million years pass, even if we survive, we will evolve, but even more cool, is that other animals will too.  In the future, the next monkeys will need rights soon.   I’m not sure if it’ll be the power of speech or tools or logic, but any animal could evolve given enough time.  

Monkeys first, then, a billion more years and mice and rats get the opposing thumb boost to compete.  

Every century, we treat a few more groups as equal  

I’ve always wondered why humans don’t have breeds and sub species like every other animal on earth.  I suppose it was a choice to call us all equal for the equal rights thing to catch on.  We are taught we should treat all people equally, even though history has shown us we obviously don’t.  I feel confident most smart people understand humans are not equal.  Breeds and species do exist and some evolved to be better at life in their environments than others.  I certainly agree we all deserve equal treatment, but we are not equal.  

If humans are studied like bees — then some of us are queens; some of us are drones, and some of us are Jerry Seinfeld.  Drones that strive for more.  

Some are red ants and some are some are army ants.  

The part I find funny, is how so many people don’t get this.  Those who do, get the concept take a decade or two to convince the people that don’t get it, and then we give a new set of people equal rights every generation.   Before I was born, we’ve given equality to slaves and blacks and women.  In my lifetime, we’ve seen immigration expand, and we’ve tried to convince everyone to treat Mexicans and other foreigners as equal.  Next maybe we’ll work on creating equality for the homosexual community.  

Written on an iPhone keyboard. Fast and pretty nice, oven if punctuation is a three click process

Facebook Friend Flaw

Something scared me just now.  A logic flaw in facebook nobody is thinking about.

Recently, an old friend of mine appeared on facebook without a profile pic.

I friended here and several of my friends followed suit and added her too.

Today I thought, If this wasn’t my friend at all, they could now easily discover loads about me.

They’d have a huge circle of access to ask questions and get to know the person they were faking to be… or any of us.

Funny Ideas

I think it’d be hilarious if we discover bones and fossils expand.  Science was thinking wrong.

We know the humans in the history we know have expanded from 4 foot beings to 6 foot beings in only a few hundred years. What if in 10,000 years or more, they just keep growing, even after what we call death.

Dinasaurs were not gigantic… Just the fossels are


Every million years had a new leader

If dinos were so huge, no wonder they died. Feeding elephants is hard enough on the landscape.  Maybe they starved.