I don’t like dentists. I mean, I am sure they are decent people, personally, but I do not like being in their chairs. I don’t like the pleasant views outside their windows, which apparently all dental chairs now face. I don’t like the smells associated with dental work. I don’t like the high-pitched “zzzzzzzzz” of the drill or the lower frequency and course grinding of the other tools. I don’t like the relaxing music. I don’t like the metal instruments, bitewings, or the way they jerk your cheek around while they inject anaesthetic. The only thing I can say that I enjoy at the dentist is the gas. NOS is good stuff.

However, I do like my teeth. And I would like to keep them. So, visiting the dentist is a necessity. Unfortunately, I have been neglecting my dental appointments, and it has been quite a while since I had been in the chair. When part of a molar broke off last Tuesday, it made the overlooked appointment for me.

I had a deep cavity that, fortunately, somehow managed to avoid the nerve, so I narrowly escaped a root canal. But it did require a crown. Thankfully, when my tooth began to come out in pieces, a very good Claremore dentist was able to see me the next day, quite a coup for a new patient. He looked me over and told me that he thought he could fix it with a large filling but that I needed to know that a filling would need to be dealt with again in ten years or so. I suggested that we go ahead and crown it, and he agreed that was probably the best choice. Miraculously, he had a large enough window of time to do the crowning procedure the very next day.

It was probably not a good idea to Google the whole crowning procedure that night. I saw pictures I should have never seen. I did learn some useful information, but I also learned stuff that I would just rather not know. It was enough to help me decide what kind of crown I would choose and that I really need to pay very good attention to my teeth, including periodic check ups. But I saw some stuff that, even now, makes my stomach do little flops.

The next day, I was back in the chair, and the dentist begins the procedure and, like a good dentist, explained everything he was doing. I finally just said, “I shouldn’t have Googled this last night, and I saw some pictures I really should not have seen, so the less I see and know about what you’re doing, the better.” He said sure, and that they would keep everythign out of sight.

I just prefer to have it done. I know I need to. I know it’s necessary. But if I were to have known the precise details of the procedure to rectify the situation, I would probably not had the nerve to go through it–as useful or necessary as it was.

Then I began to think, What if the dentist got part of the way into the process and I changed my mind? What would I do? How dangerous would it be for me to get up and walk out with the work half done? And so, the doc kept me in the dark, did his job, and got me all fixed up–without a bit of pain. And it all goes to show that ignorance is bliss.

As I thought about this whole ordeal, I was hit by the similarities with the war in which we as a country are now entangled. Like my tooth procedure, it is not pretty, or fun, or pleasant. Due to some matters of neglect, we are faced with some issues that must now be rectified. For that to happen, some decay must be dealt with. That cannot occur without some messy, costly operations. When removing decay on a tooth, some of the good tooth must also be sacrificed. Imagine the lunacy of a person who would refuse to have the dead and decaying areas of their tooth dealt with because it would require a loss of some healthy tooth, too.

The modern age in which we live, with light-speed world communication, has given us all a first-hand look inside the mouth of Iraq while the dental specialists are working their prescribed plans. We see the mess that exists. We see the losses. In many situations, we see more than we can stomach, and if we do not commit ourselves to special resolve, our knee-jerk instinct is to declare that nothing is worth this cost, so we must exit.

I think this is what has happened to many who supported the invasion of Iraq but now call for our departure from the theater. Don’t get me wrong. I derive absolutley no joy in hearing that we have lost more American men and women. I, too, wish our soldiers could return home to their lives and families. I wish it were all over.

However, I am not deluded enough to think that our exit from the area will lead to peace and quiet in the Mid-East. We will simply have made a mess in the area, like leaving a decaying tooth half repaired and ripe for further, deeper, more festering infection. Better to save what we can of the situation by our emergency actions now than to walk away with the patient un-treated and have to return for more severe, deeper, deadlier dangers later.

As the President has said, our troops should return home when the job is done, just as my dentist should take his hands, tools, and other foreign material out of my mouth when the job at hand is done. Americans have become increasinly anti-dentite in their views toward the war. But we must fight our natural desires to get out of the chair, remove our lovely paper bib, and go home with a tooth reshaped yet un-crowned. It is inviting further, worse infection in the future.

In conclusion, if you can’t stant to watch what the dentist is doing and still let him do his work on you, you should–as I do–tell him to keep you in the dark. Same goes for the war. If you cannot see the numers of war dead and count them as heroes who have pored out their blood for the continued safety, security, and prosperity of the American ideal, if you cannot understand that their sacrifice is immeasurable, and that sometimes immeasurable sacrifices are necessary for the preservation of the Union, then you should simply stay in the dark and let folks with calmer stomachs and stronger constitutions do what is required to address the instant problem. We’ll all be better off.

We’ve been fortunate enough to pick up a sponsor for the WynnCast. Due to popular demand, I am posting our new sponsor’s ad here by itself for your listening pleasure and amusement.

WynnCast Sponsor – The Modern Worship Experience Megachurch

If you like it, click on over to the WynnCast and give the whole thing a listen.

It is impossible, with all my jobs, to have a set day off. I do try, however, to keep Mondays kind of light. That plan doesn’t always work out; and it definitely didn’t today.

As I sit here, I am still soaked with sweat from a manhunt. Yes, you read correctly; a manhunt.

Jeane and I noticed a few vehicles parked across the street from us today. This raised a little bit of concern, due to the fact that we live at the end of the street in our neighborhood, which we affectionately refer to as Del Boca Vista. I went out to investigate this afternoon and saw a couple of folks walking the fenceline at the edge of the yet-to-be-completed third phase of Del Boca Vista. I didn’t think it was particularly safe for them out there, but I am a live-and-let-live kinda guy. So, since I was convinced they weren’t casing my house, I didn’t think anything of it.

A bit later, Jeane told me there was another car back across the street. I went outside, and there were several cars lining the street all the way from the corner. We are the only house on our street, on either side, so this is a very odd occurance. I approached one vehicle, which had someone in the driver’s seat, as a man got out of the car and asked if I could help them.

It was at this point that the man told me that his son had run off into the woods (just beyond the boundary of Del Boca Vista) last night and that they were searching for him. I got a name and description of the missing high-school aged boy and told him I would be out to help as soon as I changed my shoes.

When I got back outside, Jeane said he had told her the kid ran into the woods last night and they had been out searching with cops last night. I don’t know where we were, but we never noticed. Not finding him, the boy’s friends and family had returned today.

Once I got to the wooded area, and got through two barbed-wire fences, I was told he was barefoot and they had found some tracks. They had also found his belt, which had been cut off.

And the search began. I am always amazed that 100 yards from relative civilization, there can be complete and utter wilderness. There was heavy underbrush, lots of thorns, the occasional snake, and lots of bugs. The only shape I am in is round, but I set out trekking through the brush looking for bare foot prints or other signs.

I made it all the way to the interstate, then headed back around without seeing many signs of man. An occasional footprint in the mud indicated a searcher had been by recently, but that was about it. I eventually ran into a couple of other searchers, who reported they had not seen anything either. We took a breather, then fanned back out.

As I was walking, I heard one of the men talking to someone. I looked toward him, and he approached and said he had found the young man. He was backing off, as the young man had told him to do. He told me the direction of the boy, and I moved that way. About that time, I saw him running away. Not about to let him disappear into the woods again, I took off after him and followed him to a little nest area in which he took cover.

Slowly, a few of us encircled that area. The boy was not happy at all. He yelled for us to leave, among other things. I let him know that I wasn’t going to hurt him, and I was not going to come near him, but I was not going to leave. I attempted to talk to him. It became very obvious that he was not in good mental condition. One of the men left to find his father. As I stood there, with him still in sight, I weighed my options. I am big enough that I thought I could take him. However, I have heard that people with mental difficulties have extraordinary strength. And, I did not know whether or not he was armed. Then I remembered that they had found his belt cut off of him. I was relatively sure he had at least a knife. Erring on the side of caution, I continued to wait and think of an alternate plan.

Eventually teh man who had left brought the boy’s father up, and he began to tlak to him. His dad honored his request to ask me to back away. I left the area but remained within earshot. I then called Jeane and told her we had located the young man. I asked her to call the police and also ask for a mental health professional to come with them.

Four of Claremore’s finest showed up in short order, and I flagged them down and filled them in on the situation. They went to the boy’s nest and began the process of getting him to give up his weapon, which we discovered he did have, and come out. It took a good long while of diligent work on their parts, and they did very well at it. I just stood back and stayed in the area because the young man was a pretty big guy, and I thought they might need the help.

As it began to grow duskier and duskier, I think we all realized something needed to happen before we were all stuck in the dark Oklahoma woods. As the officers kept talking to him, they finally got him to throw his weapon away from himself, and the four of them lunged to restrain him. He was able to run a short distance before they brought him down. In the midst of everything, I jumped on him, too, just to make sure they were able to get him restrained, so as not to hurt himself or us. They did get him handcuffed and on his feet and began to lead him out of the woods. I ran ahead to call for the paramedics, and I looked back just in time to see him escape from the police officers and set to running through the woods again, still in handcuffs.

I met the EMTs and filled them in, then headed back to where I could hear the officers. By that time, they had re-captured him and were marching him out of the woods. After getting him through two barbed-wire fences, he was loaded up for transport to the ER, where I hope he gets the attention he needs.

Jeane ran a command center of sorts out of our house, keeping everyone in the neighborhood in doors at the police’s instructions and relaying messages when I would call on the cell. She learned that this kind of behavior is very out of character for the young man, and I learned form his dad that he was recently prescibed a medication for depression. Obviously, he is not responding well to it. I am hopeful that they get him straightened out, and I am thankful that he did not harm himself or anyone else.

As for now, I am thristy, and I am headed for a bleach bath.

What do you do on your days off?

We rarely record a Sunday WynnCast, but we did this week. Then I watched the TV Land Avards® and forgot to post it. So, over on the WynnCast Blog is the Monday posting of a Sunday WynnCast. Enjoy…

The Oologah Lake Leader is one fine paper. I differ 180 degrees with John and Faith Wylie, publishers, politically. However, they put out an excellent paper. I also count them as friends, and I admire their journalistic work from NW Rogers County. In a day and age when newspapers are losing their share of the market, the Leader is the only newpaper I subscribe to. How I wish Claremore’s paper was on par with what Oloogah has.

They have an online version, but it is not archived. However, the Leader has recently added an online PDF version of the paper. Go check it out at www.oologah.net.

MDG is headed to WTN, a 100,000 watt FM talker, in Nashville. Here’s his page on their site. Here’s their coverage map.