I don’t necessarily include myself in this group, but I’ll bet I probably look a little better than ordinary mortals because nobody can ever guess how old I am ... even when I’m clunking around with my cane. Seriously. To prove my point, here’s a recent photo of decrepit pop singer Tom Jones, who still manages to scrape out a living wailing 1970s hits for grateful retirees around the world:
If you’re interested in some background trivia, I actually saw Tom Jones in concert at the Fontainbleau Hotel in Miami Beach in 1971 when I was on a spring break trip with a couple of girlfriends from college. He was extremely loud and sweaty. Most of the women in the audience were throwing room keys and underpants at him, but I decided not to participate in this activity for two reasons: 1) Leslie had our room key; and 2) my underpants were ugly. (No girl in her right mind would EVER throw white full-cut underpants at a pop star.)
August 2010 will definitely go down in history as my most expensive month ever for dental work. Since this is my blog and I’m entitled to write damn near anything I want, here’s the bombshell: I’m getting upper dentures. I had impressions done this morning at the dentist’s office and also had a chance to pick out the color of my new teeth, which was mildly entertaining. I need a few extractions, too, and I’ll see the oral surgeon to have that done under general anesthesia. We’re trying to coordinate everything for the week of August 23. The sooner the better, to tell you the truth. After spending my entire life drifting from one dental emergency to another I’m relieved that it’s almost over and I’ll finally have MOVIE STAR TEETH. (Now all I need are Botox, balloon boobs and a screen test.)
Weather bulletin! This is our 15th consecutive day with temperatures in the triple digits. Send watermelon.
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