Monday, January 7, 2013

Not One for Denial

There are some things, Fans in Finland, that you can ignore and they will go away. Like snow, for instance. If it snows and you are some sort of facsist bastard who hates sledding and jaunty snow-caps, you can sit inside, reading Jack Reacher novels and cursing the casting director who chose Tom Cruise (not my car) to play him in the movies, and sure enough, it will eventually melt away, leaving only your righteous fury at a short miscast actor it its place.

Most things, though, will NOT go away if you ignore them. Most things will just sit there, waiting for you to tire of Lee Child's effective prose and unlikely adventurer/hobo hero, and be there when you're done. Or worse, they might actually get worse. Hence the use of the word "worse." Not a win for the home team, ladies and gents.

I'm normally the proactive sort. I like (and by like, here I mean "have a compulsion that is not adequately medicated) to worry about issues and try to solve them, occasionally when they're totally unlikely to happen.

Then again, much like that 80s song I couldn't remember other lyrics to if you paid me, I'm only human. Sometimes, I too, as shocking as it seems, drop the ball. I drop it like dubsteppers drop the bass. Only not in a fun way. Not in a we're-all-gyrating-and-spasming-on-club-drugs way. More in a tie-myself-to-the-whipping-post-because-we're-all-out-of-other-people-responsible way.

But, as my BFFIC informed me, it's not like the Allman Bros. are auditioning new members. And I think we all know I'd last approximately 5 minutes in a jam band. Not just because I have no musical talent, but also because I have no attention span, and I'm all out of drugs that make a 45 minute long accoustic set seem like a good idea.

On a semi-related note: my mom went to the Allman Bros. concert in the not-terribly-distant past and got really bored with the jamming. I think she wandered off to find a wine vendor. Or an exit. My mom is not known for her epic patience with guitar solos.

On a not-at-all related note, and popping purely into my head for its overall AMAZING nature: My dad told me something recently that I'd lived all 30+ years on this good earth not knowing. He and a friend had gone to hear Ginsberg read poetry when they were in college. This is odd, and not just because the words "my dad" and "beat poet" are never used in the same story. It's odd because I made it through 4 years of written-word devoted college without hearing, not to mention the following years, or the preceding years, or any of the years ever that I should have heard about this. Anyway. According to Dad, he and his friend left early. During the recitation? Pretty much. And I'll leave you with Dad's colorful memory:

"It was oppressive. I would rather sit in a wet field and make piles out of mud."

That's fantastic, right there. That is telling AND showing. Bravo mon pere!

Anyway. Yes. The ball droppage, as it were.

Well, I dropped the ball with the kids' tooth brushing regimen. I made sure they brushed but I didn't always supervise, and I didn't have them floss often enough either- mainly because I suck at flossing and I can't get MY fingers in their wee tiny mouths. I also, like a total nimrod, thought honestly if they had plenty of space between teeth, that flossing wasn't entirely required. I did take them for regular cleanings, but our last dentist isn't what one would call good. Or mediocre, for that matter. She was straight up NOT good. And in my oh-so-humble opinion, she missed some things that will haunt me, in short order.

Now, I wasn't trained in ANY medical and/or dental capacity, so what she missed isn't on me. I just wish I'd known more about flossing. And had supervised their actual brushing *better* than I did.

So now we have some potential issues to deal with, and I'm not happy. I was asking another friend what she would do in my situation, and she said, "hope it goes away." Dental issues, unfortunately, do not rank up there with "snow" in a list of things that won't bother you if you don't bother them.

I'm kicking myself and all that good stuff that I do when I screw up. It's fun, being me. Or not. Well, not all the time at any rate.

I will leave you with a helpful list of things that do NOT go away if you ignore them:

* Dental issues. They just get worse, and can require unpleasant repairs. Or flossing. I hate flossing. I will make my kids floss but don't expect me to do it. And hey, I made it this far in life with ZERO cavities, fillings and/or other dental stuff I don't understand. Lucky, that's usually how I'd describe myself. Oh wait, no, I wouldn't. Unless I'm talking about my lack of dental issues.

* Diarrhea. My son is trying to ignore his upset stomach, but it isn't working.

* Bills. Sure, you might skip one here or forget one there, but unless they're student loans and you're laid off, those suckers will find you. Just like the creditors are trying to find the guy who lived here before we bought the house.

* Shitty neighbors. True story. I've been pretending they're all dead for YEARS now, but alas, each night brings with it the harsh reality that they are alive and need oil for their garage door chain.

* The cat box. If you ignore it, they may even stop using it and start using your shoes.

Denial, not always an effective life strategy. Unless it's snow, or a guitar solo.

Comments, questions, what do you hope goes away? Hint: the answer is *not* this blog.