So, it's back to work tomorrow. Actually, first we have to take Mr. Z in for an early morning orthodontist appointment. Poor dude has no idea what's gonna hit him. He's got this underbite thing going on, and these orthodontists are going to bolt this "appliance" to the roof of his mouth that's basically supposed to push his whole upper toothitude outward. It sounds fucking miserable, and they're giving us this key thing to crank it every so often to make sure he's in constant pain. They're calling this part "Phase I." The next phase is braces, and the final phase is when they drive the old lady and I to the poor-house, shove us out the door and speed off. Bastards.
Apparently, Mr. Z can only have a liquid diet tomorrow. I guess the blood that will be shooting out of his mouth will make ingesting solid foods a little more difficult. I feel really bad for the boy. But I'm trying to look on the bright side -- at least he can't have hard or chewy candy anymore, and the little plastic bridge part that's going to sit between his molars will make him talk funny. And he has to wear a head-gear at night.
The old lady and I are both taking him tomorrow so we can make sure he'll hate us equally for ruining his life.
7 comments:
Ouch! Mr. Z. will be miserable.
I had that done the summer before my freshman year in college.
As if I was not nerdy enough.
I went to Purdue with a lisp and had to hide myself in the basement of the dorm when I turned the key for the self-torture.
Try getting a fake id when you have braces, I looked like I was 12.
Although that did lead to a gig in a punk-rock band. It all started with "she's with the band" to get me in the bars. Soon Ms. Johnson was born. I'd re-type my psychology notes on stage in my thrift store vintage dresses while the band (Dow Jones and the Industrials) was going nuts.
One of my old buddies was visiting from Minneapolis last week and was talking about the "good old days" and wondering what happened to the skinny girl with braces that was always lurking around.
It took me two whiskeys and several photographs to convince him it was me.
Good news for Mr. Z? He's getting all of that out of the way now.
Giving codeine to children is highly underrated. I say help the boy out--he's gonna need it.
I'll say a quiet prayer for the crabbyfamily, as well as the orthodontist you'll all be damning to hell tomorrow.
Good luck.
You have a large (in enthusiasm, not weight) Indianapolis fan base.
Thanks, Nora. I like Indy. My old band recorded both of our CDs at Jonny Quest studios in Indy... next to some bar with a "bulldog" theme. I remember getting drunk and watching "Rods & Cones" wank out an incredible version of "Highway Star" once, somewhere in Indiana. And I enjoy your Skyway. Ah, Indiana.
Wow!
Okay, that recording studio, Hit City was across from the coffeehouse that I managed for years. My office was in the basement of the recording studio.
I just missed the annual Rods and Cones reunion show, because I went to the wrong venue--ouch.
And, I still see Johnee Quest almost everyday. I hired him for a gig recently and paid him in cash* 'cause I didn't want to find out his real name after all of these years. Kim was at the show and if Evan is who I think he is, was there also. I could not talk Evan's band out of retirement to play.
*harder than it sounds--it was for a non-for-profit gig. I had to go to stupid lengths to do it.
Krazy, Nora! I've had coffee at that coffee shop. And if I remember correctly, it was the perfect temperature. Nice work.
Hey, next time you see Johnnee, tell him that A-- um, Crabbydad from "Diplomat 6" says "howdy." Tell him that the drum sounds he got on our disks are still the best I've ever heard.
What a coinkidink.
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