Don't Forget the Old Days

During a friendly chat last night, a friend of ours was lamenting his unending fear of the dentist. There was a little nervous laughter and then he explained.
"If I sat in his chair as a 6-year old in 1945 and he was roughly 70-years old, that means he went to dental school in the 1800s. How current was he?"

One of my brothers-in-law is a dentist. I wish he didn't live 4 hours away because we all want to go to him.

I'm pretty sure the daughter and the baby have not witnessed laundry run through the ringer and hung on the line to dry. Microwave popcorn is older than the baby. I grew up with plumbing in the house but visits to relatives occasionally involved outhouses. They also involved fun things like swimming in a lake, sitting around a bonfire and actually discussing things. No one had an electronic device plugged in an ear or molded to their palm.

Dentistry is painless and routine to our children. Don't I sound like an oldie?

My childhood/early adulthood dentist was a hip-hopping dude in the 70s. He wore psychedelic shirts and multiple gold chains. He was not patient friendly but he did freely dispense nitrous oxide for fillings. I found out later that he enjoyed hauling a tank of it to parties and enhancing the atmosphere with a mood-altering substance.

In the early or mid 80s, I was with a group of girlfriends celebrating a new job for one of them. He approached our table and he was still wearing his gold chains and a loud shirt. Thankfully, he was not carrying a tank. We did not bite. (or spit.)