Red in tooth and claw

My bête noire is the dentist’s assistant–“hygienist”–and what they call teeth-cleaning. “Our gums still don’t look good, do they, Mr. Roe?”

I’ve been doing this leeching for over 50 years and the only thing to change in that time is my having to do more and more of the work myself. What, they ask, surely you brush at least twice a day? You don’t floss! You’re shoving wood and plastic splinters between every one of your teeth, right? You’re now using a water pick, correct?

Where—I ask them when able—is that innovative tooth paste with it quantum leap in plaque/tartar reduction? That truly restorative mouthwash and its dramatic protection? Those easy teeth caps or permanent enamelization or something to stop the need for further blood-letting?

One. Half. Century of zero, nada, zilch. “We’d have to sterilize mouths, Mr. Roe, and we can’t do, can we?” I suppose I’ve not helped by calling them Butcher Bobs.