That's the Last Time I Go To Torrance

Yesterday I woke up extra early (which I assure all of you working stiffs is actually early) to get out of my comfy bed, meticulously clean my teeth, and eat a liquid breakfast. I then put a snack in my bag, grabbed my Google Map printout, and jumped in the ole Graham Bingum. I was on a mission, my darlings.

I was going to find out once and for all why my gums are bleeding.

See, some of you may recall how 2006 has been the "Year of the Tooth" for me. I am getting these puppies cleaned, straightened, and prepared for their ascent into the last two thirds of my life. Knock on wood. Anyway, the little pearlies are only doing "Fair to Good," and that is not okay with the girl who was known around her 'hood as Golden Mouth, aka Me.

A friend had told me about his dentist. Back in the day, his gums weren't doing so well, so they had done deep cleaning on his roots and even cut some of his gums out of his mouth (which isn't as uncommon as it might sound). Well, needless to say, shortly after these majorly painful events, his gums' health went south AGAIN. At the end of his rope, he went to see "Doc Torrance." Through alternative care, the Doc saved my friend's mouth from ruin.

I figured this was just the guy for me.

I drove and I drove, listening to morning shows on the radio and the White Stripes. Google Maps failed me, I got lost, I got found, and eventually I made it to the office to see the bright and shiny faces of his assistants.

Well, my darlings, let me warn you that this is the point at which my blog takes a sharp turn. I turned on the news this morning, like I do every morning, and I was treated to the sight of a black Nissan Maxima being followed by 11 police cars. The guy was a murder suspect, possibly having killed someone in that same area.

Then I noticed that I was watching the Nissan drive the same route as I went yesterday.

See, I got a funny feeling from Torrance, and now I know why. It turns out that murderers hang out there and clog up the freeways. As I was driving yesterday, I was thinking how many people get shot while driving on the 110. The voice kind of sounded like my mom, and I made sure to comfort my inner mom and tell her that everywhere is unsafe, really. With so many people in this city, you can't really hide from less-than-stellar encounters.

Anyway, I am still watching this on TV and thanking my guardian angel that this wasn't happening yesterday. My inner mom is going crazy with "I told you sos" because now they are exchanging shots. Things are getting crazy, and I am not excited about going back to the Doctor's office.

Maybe, in a truly magnificent LA move, I can get the Doc to come to me. Huh. Now there's an idea. We can hang out in the Treehouse and watch Greg The Bunny. I bet he'd like that, he seems like a Seth Green fan.

By the way, he took a look at my mouth chemistry under a microscope. He scraped off some plaque and then showed me what it looked like magnified many times. As luck would have it, I am a rare case that this semi-retired man has only seen once or twice at most...my mouth is not plagued with bad bacteria, but has an abundance of candida in it.

I am a Yeasty-Mouth. And if any of you ever call me that in person I will kick your ass from here to Timbuktu. I am going for truth in prose, here, so don't discourage my intimacy with you and some stranger who finds me on the internet.

They just shot the guy, by the way. It doesn't look fatal. But he'll probably wish it was eventually.

Whether it's being told you have killer yeast in your gums or getting shot, it seems like only bad things happen in Torrance. Also, the little Redrum kid in the Shining's last name was Torrance. See? Going back is going to take a lot of inner strength.

pray for me. g