It
was a most memorable Fourth of July.
As
with all holidays, not many people were traveling on a national holiday. But
flights on the Fourth of July evening are even less full because everyone wants
to watch fireworks. I boarded early (naturally), as night was falling on New
York. Making my way to the nearly empty first-class cabin due to a free upgrade,
there were a few intrepid travelers (read “whack jobs”) like myself aboard. We
smiled and chatted lightly as we got settled, congratulating ourselves for
being true "road warriors". A guy named Jim sat in the aisle seat
immediately in front of me. He seemed like a nice fellow and we spoke as we got
ready to take off. NOTE: remember this name and his location!
Pulling
away from the gate, we taxied out to the runway where the mighty engines roared
as we rumbled down the runway towards our takeoff speed. After takeoff we
banked to the right, you could see downtown Manhattan off in the distance.
There were numerous firework displays all throughout the greater New York
metropolitan area. You could see the great fireworks near the Statue of Liberty
and throughout many of the boroughs surrounding Manhattan.
Right
after takeoff the flight attendant came around offering her thanks for flying
with them followed by our choice of beverage and dinner. Normally I carry
something to eat on a long flight to help dilute the boredom of sitting in a
confined space for hours. But because of the upgrade, dinner was included. Not
that it was a gourmet meal, not even close. The choices for dinner were (wait
for it) chicken or salad. Being the discerning gourmet I chose the chicken
mainly because it was warm (not hot) as opposed to room temperature (not cold),
but it gave you something to do.
When
the meal arrived, my expectations were not disappointed. It was a here-to-fore
unknown piece of chicken anatomy, covered with a yellow-green sauce pretending
to be attractive. There were way overcooked vegetables and a salad pretending
to be fresh. But since it didn’t smell all that bad, I threw culinary caution
to the wind and took a bite. Not bad, but not good either.
On
the fourth bite something happened that would alter the course of human
history, or at lease my psyche. A piece of bone and gristle were in the meat as
I gnashed down. They became tightly lodged between my lower left molars. There was no pain, I didn’t cry out in
agony like the time one of my molars cracked while biting down on an un-popped
kernel of corn. No, this was just pressure from a foreign substance being
firmly fixed between my teeth.
Historical Note:
Getting something stuck in-between my teeth is not an unusual circumstance. I
get food stuck all the time because my teeth are very tight. If you stick your
face into my mouth, and have sufficient morbid curiosity, look into my mouth
and you will see that my teeth are so close together that one of them has been
squeezed out of place. My friend and dentist Dr. Hulen has remarked on more
than one occasion that my teeth are; I believe the correct medical term is, “jammed
together”. I’ve come to expect getting bits of food stuck in my teeth as part
of “normal” life, so I carry the necessary tools of the trade with me at all
times. I never go anywhere without something in my pocket or backpack to help
in times of trouble.
Tight
spot
So, I
coolly but carefully chewed and swallowed the remainder of food and started the
tongue contortion routine that I was all too familiar with. Pushing my tongue
towards my teeth I struggled to somehow lift the debris and free myself. This
went on for about five minutes until my tongue hurt and hung from exhaustion. I
had to escalate to DEFCON 4[1]
which involved pen tops and paperclips. Poking at the obstruction, I tried and
failed to get the chicken wreckage out without damage to teeth, gums or
self-respect. It was helpful that there was no one in my row so I did not have
to attempt the rescue effort while hiding these modern weapons of dental
hygiene.
I was
starting to get desperate. I just declared DEFCON 3 and there were only two
weapons left in my arsenal. So, as the flight attendant walked by I asked if
she had any toothpicks. She smiled that knowing smile as if to say, “Yep, you
ordered the chicken, didn’t you.” She quickly returned with two individually
wrapped toothpicks, winked and then walked away, discerning that I needed
privacy for self-dentistry. I poked and prodded with the skills acquired by the
many prior episodes. Feeling the obstruction with my tongue I inserted the
toothpick, trying to push it out. No luck. The next move was more desperate; I
tried to wedge and separate my teeth with the toothpick just a little bit. This
involved some pain but would be well worth it if I got relief, but none was
coming.
So,
tired and frustrated, I resorted to the only tool left in my arsenal of dental
warfare; DEFCON 2 – dental floss. Like James Bond going for his gun, I coolly
and carefully reached into my backpack and pulled out my trusty mint flavored
waxed floss. Unrolling an ample supply, I wrapped it around my fingers and
gracefully began a sawing motion, pushing down with enough pressure to dislodge
it but not slice my gums to smithereens when I was successful. While this
approach had been successful in days gone by, I was getting nowhere. The dental
floss was being cut by the small piece of bone, so it just shredded. Several
pieces of floss later, as I tried harder and harder, the results were the same.
I was really starting to get rattled and distressed.
There
was only one thing to do – the nuclear option, DEFCON 1, total dental war!
Carefully cutting a new length of dental floss, I looked at the ends to
ensure that there were clean edges. I then carefully wrapped the floss around
one end of the toothpick and stuck it along my gum line between the two molars underneath
where the bolder was lodged. It took four attempts but I finally got the dental
floss through and was able to grasp it with my fingers. Now, carefully pulling
some of the floss through, I rewrapped it around my fingers and began the
delicate dance of this last try at freeing my teeth from this dangerous prison.
I began to pull the floss up against the blockage, nothing happened. I started
to pull a little bit harder and move the floss back and forth with greater
intensity. This went on for a few minutes till I screwed my courage and tugged the dental
floss up for one last mighty pull for liberty.
And
then freedom! It was gone, but what a price was to be paid. Yes, the bone and
gristle did come out! Yes, my molars were still safe and snug in my jaw. But
there was an unannounced NASA launch. You see, I had forgotten to keep my mouth
closed in all the excitement. It seemed like time slowed as I watched in horror
as the piece of bone and gristle hurled skyward, it would have made any astronaut’s mother proud. The arc of the mass reached its apex,
losing its battle with gravity, rolled once more and then began its downward
decent.
Everything
would have been fine except for the landing zone. Remember Jim in the seat in
front of me? Well, the mass from within my teeth landed on the back left-hand
side of his head and stuck to his salt-and-pepper hair! It was sitting like a teed up golf ball on a well-manicured golf course. You could not miss it!
So,
here I was. Free from the dental pokey only to be left on the horns of a moral
dilemma. What was I to do? How could I fix this without embarrassment to Jim or
myself? I thought of different schemes of how I could “accidently” brush up
against his head and knock the blob off.
Or I could try a stealth surgical strike to remove it without his
knowing anything had happened. I could get the flight attendant involved,
bribing her with $50 to somehow get it out of Jim’s hair. Quickly assessing the
risk-reward pros and cons for each scenario, I carefully came to the conclusion
that any self-respecting, seasoned traveler and member of our culture would.
I
said nothing, I did nothing and I decided to ignore it. Yes, Jim walked off
that plane with what seemed like a giant piece of schmutz[2]
in his head. I often wonder if anyone ever said anything to Jim about what was
on his hair. Did it just fall off or did he see it when he went to the
bathroom? What did he say to his family and friends about it? Oh, and Jim in
case you are reading this, …sorry about that…
Tight
Spot
We’ve
all been in a tight spot, due to our own actions or those of someone else.
We’ve found ourselves in a place of embarrassment, hurt and potential danger.
Sometimes we are caught by others and brought to the court of public opinion,
verbally prosecuted, persecuted and punished.
We think that God is also against us, pounding us for our crimes and
moral failures.
Yet,
when I see Jesus meeting people in tight spots, I see the heart of God who loves
and cares. One remarkable story is about a woman found in the throes of sex
outside of marriage, accused by the self-righteous; his reaction is two-fold[3];
First
– only the people without any problems or sin have the right to condemn and
punish. That leaves all of us out in the
cold. We all have the same problems, same failures and unable to fix ourselves.
Second – Jesus does not approve of her actions, but encourages her to go forward and
leave her prior life behind.
This
is the definition of repentance – to change direction. Jesus wants us to learn
from the tight situations we find ourselves in and change direction towards
him. He does not just pat us on the head and say “boys will be boys.” He
recognizes who we are and our desperate need for a fresh start.
So
today, I really encourage you to turn around and walk towards Jesus. The only
person who can accept you right where you are, repair you and make you whole
again.
Blessings
– Chet
Chet Gladkowski writes on
contemporary topics that impact our lives, culture and faith.
GladAssociates@gmail.com -
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http://dailyridge.com/?s=gladkowski
[1] DEFCON 5-Lowest state of readiness,
Normal readiness
DEFCON 4-Increased
intelligence watch and strengthened security measures, Above normal readiness
DEFCON 3-Increase in
force readiness above that required for normal readiness, Medium readiness
DEFCON 2-Next step to
nuclear war, War readiness
DEFCON 1-Nuclear war
is imminent, Maximum readiness
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