Wednesday afternoon, Friend 2 got Friend 4's email message: "White Smoke!" I checked www.istherewhitesmoke.com and guess what? Gotta Pope. I had high hopes for a brown pope.
As it turned out, I was on the way to the dentist when the habemus papam came on the radio, and after hearing the name I assumed he was at least a latte shade of pope, but no. Both parents are full Italian.
The dentist was wearing red sneakers in preparation for popehood. I wondered if he'd been wearing them all week, but I didn't ask, because he was busy grinding my chipped tooth down with a Dremel. I didn't mind the noise as much as the smell of hot tooth.
After they applied the tooth putty they told me specifically not to move my lip, and they even packed my upper lip with cotton. We waited quietly while my tooth hardened.
The dental assistant in the next cubicle asked her patient, "Is Francis of Assisi still a saint? I thought he was de-sainted."
"Don't ask me; I'm Jewish," the patient said, exasperated.
My dentist and assistant fell into muffled hysteria. I made that strange sound you make when you laugh while your upper lip is packed full of cotton. (Enh! Enh enh!)
Here's the result:
No before photo, because I was distracted by the pope pomp. The front left tooth in the photo above had the bottom right corner knocked off. Maybe five percent of the tooth.
Of course now that the front left tooth is even, the front right tooth looks wavy. I can see myself turning into the Michael Jackson of teeth. I'd get the right front tooth fixed, then the next tooth on the right will be too round.
I thought Saint Christopher had been de-sainted, but evidently not. The ony true saint demotion I've found was Saint Ursula of Saint Ursula and the Virgin Horde.