Please help me welcome Slim Randles with another bit of humor to brighten our Wednesday. I’m not sure I agree with the last statement in his post, but you can decide for yourself. Since poor Herb has such a bad tooth, maybe he should have a milkshake and we could all join him.
Herb walked into O’Dontal Dental the other day, holding his hand against a swollen face. He hadn’t even made an appointment to see Perry first, and it became obvious why he hadn’t.
“Good morning, Herb,” said Andrea, the receptionist. “What can we do for you today?”
“Mmfft Crullit!”
“Certainly. Have a seat and I’ll let Perry know you’re here.”
In less than a minute, Dr. O’Dontal had Herb seated, numbed, and ready for work. Herb’s labored breathing had returned to normal, even if his speech patterns hadn’t.
“At what o’ the clock did the infliction attack, good sirrah?”
“Lfft’ent mmst,” said Herb.
“You should’ve used the phone to let me know, Herb. Oh, that’s right. What was I thinking? Well, you’re here now, let’s see what we can do.”
“Wonk oo.”
“You’re welcome. Open wide. Little more. Cast open the gates, Leander! Let us gaze upon the source of woe!”
Perry worked his way through dental school as a Shakespearean actor, and didn’t make it out of there unfazed.
“Aha, brothers of mine on this field of battle today, I glimpse with fearful eye the seat of our alarm. It’s a tooth, by Cuspid!”
Perry dove into the fray with drill and pick. Snicker-snick! GRRRR and fill. Rinse and spit.
“And so, Leander, take these, the pills that weave up the raveled sleeve of pain. Do so in remembrance of this day, this meeting, this sceptered isle of dental chair. Those who weren’t here with us this day will forever cast envious eyes upon us, for they will say this was our finest hour, the culmination of drill and yawn … the grinding and filling of fang for fun and profit. Arise, sweet prince, and fulfill your destiny!”
It’s almost worth getting a toothache.
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Brought to you by Home Country (the book).
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My son-in law sent me a link to this video the other day, and it made me smile. I thought I would share it here so you could smile. If a dentist can quote Shakespeare, why not a typewriter in an orchestra? Enjoy
Love the story, and love the video clip even more.
‘The Typewriter’ was originally done by Leroy Anderson in 1953, before I was even born, and I remember that when I was a child it was a very popular piece of music played regularly on the radio.
That was hilarious – and the musician is a comedian, too.
Thanks for the nice long chuckle.
The Shakespearean dentist was lovely too – though my head is too fuzzy right now to get everything the fellow in the chair said. Dentists get very good at understanding some of what their patients are saying. Or they’d never get any work done.
Alicia
Alicia, I couldn’t figure out most of what the guy was trying to say, either. I did figure out “thank you.”
Tigermouse, I did not know the typewriter had been used as a musical instrument before. That’s interesting to know.
Anderson actually wrote ‘The Typewriter’ in 1950 but it wasn’t until 1953 that it was first performed and recorded for Decca Records by the Boston Pops Orchestra.
When I was a child we didn’t have a tv until I was 11 years old so my parents listened to the radio a lot – I was brought up listening to all kinds of music, which probably accounts for my now very wide-ranging musical tastes. ‘The Typewriter’ was one I always liked, though until I watched your video clip I hadn’t heard it for many years.
How wonderfully entertaining, both the story and the video clip!
I wonder if the typist wrote any lyrical prose.
Thanks for the bit of history, Tigermouse. I, too, grew up without television and we listened to the radio a lot. But we didn’t listen to a lot of music. My mother liked to listen to the old radio shows that were on in the evenings like “The Shadow”.
So glad you liked the story and the video, Yolanda.
LD, that is an excellent question. 🙂