Totally provoked.

 

Dragon breath.

I've mentioned before that I get tired of minty toothpastes -- that burn first thing in the morning, that reminder that my desperately needed coffee will taste of mint. Toothpaste does come in other flavors, mainly bubble gum or (from Colgate) watermelon, that are targeted toward kids. They usually have the same active ingredients as adult toothpastes in the same amount, so I can use them. Still, I'm always hoping to see something new in the mint-alternative toothpaste space. 

Well, here's one. 

Dragon Dazzle is a -- well, it's not a flavor, and it's not the brand, the brand being Hello. The flavor is blue raspberry, which is only slightly less mythical than dragons, dazzling or otherwise. 

This uncaps a number of questions that I hope to answer, including:

1) What's Hello? 

2) What's in this stuff? 

3) Is it any good? 

So here we go:

1) What's Hello? 

Ah, thereby lies a (dragon) tale. Nine years ago on this very blog I wrote about a couple of products from the Hello line, products from the supermarket's bargain bin. Back in those carefree, innocent days of 2015, I noted that Procter & Gamble had attacked the company on one of its claims, and it looked like it was goodbye for Hello. 

But it was not the end yet. Hello struggled on until 2020, when toothpaste magnate Colgate bought the brand. You will look in vain to find the world "Colgate" on the box, though. As I noted in the slightly less innocent age of 2016, huge corporations have been making bank on companies that look like plucky startups for a while now. 

Anyway, it appears that the Hello division of Colgate has stuck to its woo-woo ways of all natural and stuff, to the point of offering fluoride-free toothpaste along with the regular kind for those who fear their essence will be drained. 

2) What's in this stuff? 

Have a look: 

They're much more interested in telling you what's not in it than what's in it, but what is in it is sodium fluoride 0.24%. Interestingly, the toothpaste also contains xylitol, a powerful sweetener, listed as an inactive ingredient. And yet, maybe it ought to be considered an active ingredient.

Wrigley's Orbit gum was introduced as being the first in America with the miracle sweetener xylitol, a sweetener that had already been linked to reduced cavities in children. This has been a matter of some contention in the decades since, but more recently a dentist started a company called CarieFree, which in addition to other tooth-protecting ingredients uses xylitol proudly. (The company does have toothpaste in flavors like grape and orange, but at $18 for a 2.4-ounce tube, it can keep them.)

The description of the Dragon Dazzle is twee to the point of irritation. "Tastes like adventure and glory"? I'll be the judge of that. And that brings us to...

3) Is it any good? 

It doesn't look like much -- the lack of wacky artificial coloring yields a bluish white, sort of a cross between mother of pearl and a worm that never sees the light of day. 

It has a fruity flavor that is inoffensive and very sweet -- hello, xylitol! I guess it's a berry flavor. It's fine. It's mild enough to not insult my taste buds right out of the gate, which is what I was looking for. I'm okay with the taste. How good can it be? It's toothpaste. Neither adventure nor glory detected.  

All this said, there is a kind of Pride-Monthy quality to the product. Maybe coincidence -- after all, in that community grown men are now obsessed with the things that used to obsess seven-year-old girls: rainbows, unicorns, sparkles, pink, purple. It's a little rough on the children, I guess, to have their stuff appropriated, but you know -- eggs, omelets. 

Good boy?

I know it's been several days since Christmas, and you're wondering if I've been naughty or nice. In other words, did I get any loot? Naughty boys get nuttin' for Christmas, I'm told, 'cause they ain't been nuttin' but bad. 

Well, I guess I was pretty darn nice this year! Get a load of this haul! 

Battery-powered lights for under the cabinets! That should make cooking in the dark much easier! 

A travel size bottle of the classic Gold Bond Body Powder in Original Strength! It's a present just to not be told I need Extra Strength. 

A tortilla-warming thing for the microwave! No more messing around with damp paper towels to keep the wraps moist as I do one or two at a time (which is a lie -- I'm doing the whole package at once! Try to stop me!). Can't wait to try this for enchiladas next week!

And my favorite:

The toothpaste roller! Lovely, elegant design that squeezes the ever-lovin' snot out of your tube of toothpaste, of whatever you got that comes in a tube. Prevents waste! Less filling! Literally! 

Okay, I kid because I love -- in my family, these are considered stocking stuffers, and the definition of a stocking is pretty loose. Shaq doesn't wear socks big enough for all this. These are "in addition to" type gifts, and much appreciated. And I'm not just being nice when I say they're all getting used. The toothpaste roller is already a hit in the can! 

Fizz.

You're hot, tired, and thirsty. How about a nice cold beer?

Nah, no drinking beer at work.

Okay, how about a sodie pop to give you some delicious soft-drink refreshment? 

Nah, the sugar is fattening. 

Maybe some fruit juice?

Nah, that's all loaded with sugar too, even if it's natural.

Iced coffee, then, or iced tea?

Caffeine. Insomnia, nervousness, restlessness, nausea, increased heart rate, headache, anxiety, and chest pain.

Well, all right, how about some diet soda? 

Nah, the artificial sweeteners are said to cause gas, bloating, diarrhea, stroke, heart disease, and I'm still thinking about cancer even though that was fifty years ago and pretty much disproved. And death! Maybe death! 

OKAY OKAY! Here! Have some seltzer! It's cold! It's fizzy! It has NOTHING ELSE IN IT! It couldn't possibly harm you! 

That's what you think! 

🦷🦷🦷

Yes, it's true -- according to an Italian report last April in the journal Nutrients ("Damage from Carbonated Soft Drinks on Enamel: A Systematic Review"), "An abuse of carbonated acid substances leads to an increase in the possibility of dental erosion with consequent structural disintegration and reduction of the physical and mechanical properties of the enamel. There is thus greater bacterial adhesion on rougher surfaces, determined by the erosive process, and therefore a greater risk of caries." You read that right -- drinking seltzer water or club soda that contains nothing else at all is bad for you, because the minuscule amount of carbolic acid in fizzy drinks will rot the teeth out of your head. You've heard of meth mouth? Meet soda smile.

But really, how dangerous is it? As the old saying goes, the poison is in the dose. How many carbonated drinks a day is considered abuse? The report does not say. It just scares us with some pictures of damaged teeth and tells us to drink water and eat fruit (which, just sayin', is loaded with sugar).  

Now, of all people, the American Dental Association dropped a flag on this one, God bless 'em. Yes, they say, "any drink with carbonation—including sparkling water—has a higher acid level" than water, but "sparkling water is generally fine for your teeth". Why? "In a study using teeth that were removed as a part of treatment and donated for research, researchers tested to see whether sparkling water would attack tooth enamel more aggressively than regular lab water. The result? The two forms of water were about the same in their effects on tooth enamel. This finding suggests that, even though sparkling water is slightly more acidic than ordinary water, it's all just water to your teeth."

The ADA still maintains that fluoridated water is where it's at for teeth health, but standard oral care ought to prevent any damage from carbolic acid in sugarless drinks (although they do add that sodas with natural citrus flavors will likely have a stronger level of acid). 

So, it's the usual hullabaloo-- small studies question the safety of an innocent pleasure, meta study combines results to set off a panic. Study authors never get money or notoriety for proving that something is harmless, unless they are so deep in the pocket of an industry that they're covered in lint, in which case they may be completely insane ("smoking prevents asthma!"). 

Today's medical journals are part of the campaign to make everyday life miserable. We must have schools that don't teach, jobs that don't pay, appliances that don't work, chemicals that are so safe they do nothing. Go suck water out of the tap, plebe. 

Well, the hell with it. Seltzer is only dangerous if you shoot it in your face, and I'm standing by that opinion. 

Banana peels are a danger to the same segment of the population, by the way. Just a little caution.

Squooshpaste.

I tend to be the cheapskate in the family, but when it comes to toothpaste, my wife has got me hands down. 

Seriously, about the time I am ready to throw out a used tube, she's settling in for another week out of it. 

This one's good for another month.

And this is not because she hardly uses the stuff, no no. I don't care how many times a day you brush, she has you beat. Her dental hygiene is exceptionally good. If she eats one peanut she's off to go brush. Seriously, I don't know anyone who takes better care of the pearlies than she does. She has done since childhood.

Yet somehow she manages to squeak about a week's worth of paste out of a flat tube. 

It's not like she's particular about getting the last out of everything. If she eats enough at dinner and there's nothing worth saving, right into the trash with it -- no Clean Plate Club with her. If her coffee gets cold, she throws it out and gets a fresh one; she doesn't knock it back like I do, or nuke it up. When the ketchup bottle runs low she doesn't waste her effort pounding the bottom or squishing it; she opens a new one. But the toothpaste tube is good to the last drop.

Well, after all the years I finally asked her, and found out why. She came from a bigger family than I did, and she was the baby. With the whole crew using the same tube of toothpaste, there was always a danger of running out, and her mom put the new tubes on a high shelf that she couldn't reach. So from an early age she learned there was always a little more in the tube if you put in the work. Waste not, want not!

There's always something new to discover about people if you ask the right questions, isn't there? 

Alternate world products.

When I was in the hospital, and checked into my room (so to speak), I was given a little courtesy bowl full of things to help keep up appearances. Soap, toothpaste, toothbrush, antiperspirant, etc., all branded with names you never heard of, like they dropped in from an alternate world. Yet I was very pleased by this. I had heard from an unlucky traveler who was injured abroad that in Romania the hospitals don't even feed you; if you want to eat, your family has to bring you food. (Since she was traveling alone, this put her in a sticky situation, as you might guess.)

I wasn't allowed to shower, with my back in such awful shape, but I definitely used that toothpaste and brush. And I have to tell you, it was the second nastiest toothpaste I ever tried.

Freshmint was the "brand," and I use "scare quotes" because I doubt it ever finds its way onto American shelves. I think it is sold particularly for hospitals and other institutions, and the little tubes can be purchased online in bulk. The label said it was made in India. Perhaps our Indian friends have different preferences in toothpaste flavor. This tasted like mint-flavored cardboard. But it was much better than nothing, and better by far than the awful Burt's Bees crap I paid money for.

The little soap I took home; there were soap dispensers at the bathroom sink, so I never used it.

"Freshscent"

Ditto the antiperspirant; I figured it would be thrown away if I didn't take it, so why not? A memento of my little sojourn.

How do they smell? Like the hospital. That is, I think all the ambulatory patients, and probably half the staff, use this stuff for the same reason I took it -- otherwise it would go to waste. So it makes sense that the whole place would smell like this and not, say, Dial or Axe. It's a pleasant enough scent and not overpowering, like baby powder. Oddly enough, the Freshscent products seem to be made in the USA, although the branding is quite similar to the toothpaste. There are questions about the supply chain that can only be answered by distributor New World Imports, and I haven't time to pester them right now.

Finally, there was the shampoo, or shall I say baby shampoo and body wash, which tells us what we ought to know about shampoo -- that it too is soap:

MedSpa does not come to us from NWI, but rather is a product of Medline, the company that makes Curad bandages and plenty of other medical supplies. This made-in-the-USA shampoo/soap smells pretty good too, a sort of generic soapiness, like a slightly stronger bubble-wand soap. It's just OK, but it got me clean, and after four days and change without a shower that's the key to quality, you ask me.

So that's my experience with hospital loot. I never opted for a pair of the grippy socks, nor did I try to take the charming split-back gown home. I never get invited to those red-carpet events anyway.

Apple memory.

Contrary to popular belief, I do eat things that have no sugar in them. Although I confess you would not know this from the entries in this blog. What can I say, sugar is interesting.

One of things about stuff with sugar is how much we craved it as children. It makes sugary treats a great cause for nostalgia, especially when candies that lay hidden in memory all year make a sudden return at Halloween. Mary Janes! Oh, wow! Look out, bridgework, here it comes!

Another such autumnal treat is the humble candy apple. But it's gotten very hard to find.

Caramel apples are all over. You can get plenty of Kraft caramels at the grocery store and melt them down; you just need to find tongue depressors. There are even outfits that mail-deliver caramel and chocolate apples so laden with nuts and snacks and crap that you figure they might forget the apple and no one would notice. But those hard, red candy apples, perfect McIntoshes with a sweet, brittle candy shell, are difficult to find these days. In fact, my wife and I tried a couple of pre-made "candy apples" that were all wrong -- they had a somewhat similar flavor, but the coating was gooey, with the consistency of a caramel wrap. The candy part of the candy apple actually has a subtle flavor, and if the texture is wrong it ruins the effect.

Fortunately, Concord Foods is still in the game, with the Candy Apple Kit.

Unfortunately, none of my local stores bother with it anymore, although they will carry Concord's Caramel Apple Kit and other seasonal delights like Apple Crisp and Banana Bread Mix. I had to order this online.

I have a candy thermometer and I don't know why. Must have tried making some Christmas confection years ago. The fact that I don't remember what tells you how well it went over. But it's good that I have it, because you have to cook the flavoring in the kit with sugar and water to 150°C (302°F) to get it to that hard crack stage. This takes longer than you think it will, if, like me, you don't do this kind of thing much. Then you take your nice clean apples with the provided sticks and dip them. Do not just roll them around in the syrup. That would be silly and probably dangerous. And then, ta-da!

They were just right -- that delightful fake red candy sheen over the perfect apple. One bite -- and it takes a few tries to breach the wall of candy glass -- and you get that mix of candy and apple that's crunchy and bright. My wife recalls the candy apple as having a more cinnamony flavor than these, though, which would be fixed easily by adding a little cinnamon to the candy cauldron. For me, it was a successful schlep down memory lane.

My teeth may object, but the candy apple was a favorite of my childhood, and I was happy to have a chance to remember how good they are. Most of what you eat is the apple, anyway, so I'm glad I waited for fall to get the peak McIntoshes. However, for those concerned about the sugar, I calculate that each apple is covered by almost four tablespoons of sugar! And that doesn't include the apple's own natural sugars. So, to paraphrase the modern less-fun Cookie Monster, a candy apple is a sometime food. (Poor neutered Cookie Monster.)

I don't know if a candy apple is part of your childhood memories of the Halloween season, but it was of mine, and I was glad to get another bite at the apple, so to speak.  Now I have to give away eight candy apples....

Tooth salon.

Had to find a new dentist, which is always scary. Just when you get used to the old one, something happens and you have to switch. And I'd only been going to the old one for twenty years. I was finally getting him broken in!

So I did what every idiot does; I went on social media to ask people in my geographic area for a recommendation. Then I took those names and checked them against rating sites. And all of this is stone-cold useless.

It's not that I got bad treatment. Actually, the hygienist was fine, and I think I got a good preliminary exam and a fine cleaning. And I didn't have to wait long for anything. But there were a couple of things I objected to:

1) The salon style. Seriously, this place had a row of stalls with dental chairs. It was like I had just popped in for a shave and a toothcut. Maybe this is the picture of modern dental care, but it was new to me.

2) Every booth had a TV, and they were all playing Wallykazam! Oh, sure, it was educational. I learned all about the letters S and Z, and why you shouldn't let a Borgelorp eat purple flowers. And the zombie zucchinis? Hilarious. But it was all a little wearing after a while.

The zombie zucchinis could have used a dentist, actually.

Funny, I'm old enough to remember when kids' advocates like the Comics Code Authority prohibited the use of the term zombie. But the times, they have a-changed, I guess. You have to teach the letter Z somehow.

3) The dentist spent about three minutes with me. He had examined the X-rays while I was getting my cleaning, yes. Still, I just didn't feel like he was giving me the quality of care due for a patient, the care that makes one feel like any problems have been detected. On the other hand, he also said I didn't need any work at the moment, which made me want to give him a hug. So there's that.

4) But I also never saw the dentist that had been recommended to me by name, the one I'd mentioned when I made my appointment, since you do not select your dentist at this place; you get whoever comes up in the queue.

I guess as time goes on we'll see more and more healthcare being provided this way, a factory-like atmosphere with loud cartoons. It speeds up service, lowers costs for equipment and malpractice insurance and the processing of the endless, endless paperwork ... but is it best for patients?

This setup is also a good way to hide poor doctors, slipping them onto the Wheel of Medicine. "Around and around she goes.... Oooh, you got Dr. Smerschnock! Well, maybe's he's sober today."

My current family doctor has his own practice and is an excellent physician, but he's also as old as Methuselah, and we expect him to pack it in any day now. Then what? Find a pill mill? Four booths, minimal waiting? The doctor will see you now... don't blink or you won't see him!

Tooth dismay.

I find mint to be a little harsh in my mouth, at least in the concentrated forms found in toothpaste. Maybe it makes my breath better, but hey, it's not like I have to reel back from my own bad breath. I have to do that from everyone else's.

A combination of harshness and boredom occasionally sends me looking for non-mint toothpastes (my wife is very brand-loyal and uses her own tube). The thing is, most adult toothpastes are minty and there's little variety. So I've been known to swipe the kids' brands at the store, at least as long as they have the same amount of fluoride as the adult versions.

So yes, I may be seen sometimes brushing my teeth with a toothpaste that has Captain America or the Minions on the tube. Bubblegum! Mmm.

Recently I got this:

Burt's Bees, the kind and natural brand that was bought by Clorox from founders Burt Shavitz and Roxanne Quimby for almost a billion bucks in 2007, has expanded into all kinds of markets now, including makeup and, as you see, toothpaste. I actually picked up this "Fruit Fusion" toothpaste before I started seeing online ads for it, and then the ads were everywhere. I liked the fact they they had cute fruit instead of an expensively licensed character on the tube.

I'd been happy with the few Burt's products I'd tried. I have a lip balm that my wife gave me that is smooth and protective. I once got a free bottle of the Garden Tomato Toner, which made a great aftershave.

But Burt's Bees for Kids Fruit Fusion Toothpaste? Worst tasting toothpaste I ever tried.

When you start to brush, you get the fruity flavor found in many popular kids' items, like Froot Loops. And then it starts to taste like soap. Like, genuine Ralphie-said-fudge-but-not-really-fudge kind of soap. It's a really bad taste and at its strongest as an aftertaste, when you spit the crap out.

What were they thinking? Children swear so much that they must be used to the taste of soap? Sadly, we no longer have the mores we had about swearing in Ralphie's day, so I doubt it. Then again, they claim that they have a 4.7 of 5 rating for the stuff, so maybe kids are just stupid. Or maybe the adults, who are writing the reviews, never bothered to try it themselves. When you see reviews like "It is free of all the unnecessary things other companies put in their toothpastes and I feel comfortable giving this to my son," you get the feeling the adult is carried away by environmentalism and is blind to the product's screamingly obvious defects. Bleah.

And, by the way, the company has discontinued my Garden Tomato Toner. Fie on you, Burt, and your stupid bees.

So it looks like it's back to mint for me for a while. Or the Minions....

What did I eat?

When you were a kid, did you ever play that game with your brain-damaged kid friends where one of you gets blindfolded and has to guess what food he's been given? No, me neither.

Some people must do it, because there are companies that want us to guess what we just put in our mouths.

Airheads is one of those candies that I believe was designed by the American Dental Association. It serves two purposes for them -- it layers a sticky shellac of enamel-decaying sugar on kids' teeth that leads to fillings, and it yanks those same fillings out years later when sentimental adults try the candy of their childhood. Those tooth guys got you coming and going.

But for our purposes today, the question is, what is the white Airheads supposed to be?

Pictured above is a spinoff candy, Airheads Bites, that I think are a little less sticky than regular Airheads bars and have the same fruit flavors. Except they both have a candy called White Mystery, a secret undisclosed flavor about which we can only guess. And guess we have.

The flavor is probably not Sasquatch.

Guesses include things like Watermelon, Blueberry, Pineapple, Cherry, Grape -- of course meaning the candy chimera versions of these flavors, not the flavors of actual fruits. People have said that the Airheads people change the mystery flavor, or that it's a combination of all the other flavors. Personally, I found the White Airheads Bite to not have a fruity flavor at all; it seemed like a combination of marshmallow and something else, maybe coconut. The mystery continues.

And in fact it gets more complex, as Talking Rain, home of the Sparkling Ice sodas, is running its own mystery flavor -- or, as they semi-crassly put it, What The Flavor?

"Mystery Fruit Flavor" says the bottle, and they've tied it to a sweepstakes. Not a contest, so you don't have to get the answer right to win. You could guess Sasquatch and have as much chance of winning as anybody. But what is the flavor?

Okay, I'll bite -- or sip.

I thought this one might be like Fresca, Coke's beloved (or behated) grapefruit soda, but it isn't. Really, I don't know what it is. Tastes citrusy, but who knows. Mangosteen? Does anyone really know what mangosteen tastes like? Sparking Ice is a lot better than Airheads at replicating fruit flavors, but there's no way to tell. Could be a combo, like their Kiwi Strawberry. Maybe it's Dragonfruit Mangosteen. Let's go with that. It sounds like a steampunk anime villain.

These companies are asking a lot of me. "Here, try this! Never mind what it is! It's a mystery! Put it in your mouth!" You wouldn't allow that with your bar pals. These outfits know I trust them because their other flavors are not horrible. But of course, the American Dental Association? Can't trust those guys at all.

Toofie.

Not much to say today. Yesterday I had a very tough bout of dentistry. Even the dentist and his hygienist looked exhausted by the time I left. Here's a selfie of my tooth -- one of the teeth being treated -- with a temporary filling.

toofie

My gums are not naturally green. What you see around the tooth is a rubber dam. My dentist is a big believer in these. I mean for sanitary dentistry, not for the "sexual activities" use that Wikipedia describes. (Although I confess I don't know what he does in his spare time.) I hate hate hate hate the damn dam. It's like being half-suffocated, which is not half-okay. It doesn't stop the gums from hurting; in fact, to get the dam secure a metal ring has to go around the tooth, invariably hurting the gum. And my gums were already sore, as I also got a cleaning. By the time I left my gums felt like ground beef.

Then I got caught in horrible storms -- a severe thunderstorm alert was on for the tri-state area, and I live quite a ways from my dentist. I was tooling along with all the other crazy drivers and all was fine when bam! Ran right into the storm. The sky was blue one second, black the next, like we passed through a portal into another dimension. Huge flooding took out lanes in busy rush hour traffic. Most of the time we crawled along bumper-to-bumper. There were plenty of lightning strikes, but I did not see any of the downed power lines I'd heard about or the tornadoes that touched down here and there. My trash can had gone for a walk by the time I got home, though, and that sucker is heavy. 

So that's all I have at the moment. Brush and floss people, and use fluoride toothpaste. Yes, fluoride! I don't care what the modern-day Jack D. Rippers say; we need all the help we can get against tooth decay or we'll get stuck in thunderstorms with bleeding gums. Do you want that?

It pays to have the right equipment.

"Last night? We went to Peking Joe's All-U-Can-Eat
House of Garlic for dinner... Why?"

Catalogs.

Every day I got to the mailbox and look for huge checks. Every day I am disappointed. But last Saturday was kind of a relief. Not that I didn't get checks, but because it was Veterans' Day and I got nothing. Which meant for one day at least I didn't have to lug fifteen pounds of catalogs into the house. 

Not that I mind receiving them. They start up too early, granted. I mentioned last year that I hardly look at them, but that's not strictly true. I find them occasionally fun to look at (as noted in years previous) and helpful when trying to think of things to get for professional gifts, for the person who has everything, for the person who hates everything. I have some tough customers on my list, man.

Here's a couple of catalogs I've been checking. 

Enstrom, the gift catalog for the guy on your list whose dentist needs business!

Let me say that we have received packages of Enstrom toffee in the past, and it is the finest toffee I've ever tried, delicious and delicate, not at all like trying to break a shovel blade with my teeth. However, it is toffee, tartar grout, and if you're sensitive to these things you can almost feel your enamel rotting while you eat. I'd love to send some to my editing clients, but if any of them have just paid for crowns or periodontal work they may cut me off the payroll.

If you're not in the Christmas spirit yet -- and it's November 13, so get going! -- you might need a visit from Frontgate.

Frontgate is owned by Cornerstone Brands, and they sell higher-end Christmas decorations. We've gotten some things from them in the past and they merry and brighten up the joint just swell. Lots of choices here -- this particular catalog features eight different holiday-themed doormats, for example, which is quite a lot of doormat choices. There's even more on their Web site, including a Margaritaville-themed Christmas mat. Frontgate: For All Your Santa Doormat Needs. 

I always get a kick out of the Signals catalog, although I'm not sure why I get it. It says it's for "Fans & Friends of Public Television." I'm not really a fan of PBS, obsession with Antiques Roadshow not withstanding, and I'm unclear on the Constitutionality of having government broadcasting at all. I would not, thus, call myself a Friend of Public Television, but neither am I a Sworn Enemy of it. All that said, they get some keen stuff in Signals. My favorite this year is undoubtedly the Endless Singing Christmas Joke Greeting Card. It seems like a typical sound-chip card, playing Christmas music -- but it won't shut off. And it can play for three hours. Attempts to shut it off make it louder. In desperation your victim tears it apart, releasing a gout of glitter. How better to say Happy Holidays than annoy the hell out of your loved ones? (Available in birthday hell too!)

Finally, we have The Gift Issue from jewelry hawkers Ross-Simons:

And you know what that means, boys! Gentlemen, start your credit cards!

Up in my grille.

Crest makes toothpaste for kids. Well, good, I say. I don't remember toothpastes specially made for children when I was the target audience. It's possible they were around and my parents just figured there was no reason I needed a toothpaste with Batman on the tube or whatever. "Let him use Pearl Drops! Make a man of him!"

Nowadays, I'm not swayed to buy something because the Disney Princesses or Pixar's Cars are on the label, but surely others are. Here, boys! You can have teeth like Mater's! 

Trucks got teeth!

The idea of a non-mint toothpaste has some appeal. Everyone wants to be minty fresh, but no one wants his breakfast to taste that way. Would it keep your Cap'n Crunch from tasting like peppermint? More important for grown-ups, would it keep your orange juice from tasting like poison?

Sadly, no; according to the boffins at the American Chemical Society, it's the sodium lauryl sulfate that makes your OJ taste as bad as... well, as bad as OJ Simpson acts*. And the chemical is found in kids' Crest toothpaste.

I did notice that, unlike regular adult non-whitening Crest, there's no seal of acceptance from the American Dental Association on the tube. That's not necessarily a deal-breaker; other Crest products have the seal, including some children's products, so you'd figure this is probably good too, right? Maybe it's pending. Maybe Procter & Gamble didn't want to pay the $15 Gs in application fees. Maybe it would have had to run over McQueen's grille.

Certainly I think children's toothpastes are a good idea if they get kids more willing to brush the Sugar Babies out of their cavity-prone choppers. If it's the Fruit Burst or Bubblegum flavors that does it, or just having Lightning McQueen and Tow Mater there as moral support, either way I endorse this toothpaste. Just don't expect it to make a man of your little boy the way Pearl Drops** would.

---

*I wonder what kind of toothpaste OJ uses in jail? Do all toothpastes taste bad to him because he is OJ? 

**Pearl Drops is also not ADA-accepted, by the way.

Wash your mouth out.

Every year Santa finds some weird bathroom product for my stocking. Last year, I'm sure you recall, I got a small bottle of Poo-Pourri, the stuff you spray in the toilet to stop it your deposits from shriveling the hand towels.

This year I got the Steripod: 

These little clip-on pods are like those protective covers you put on the head of your toothbrush when you travel to protect the bristles. You always want to protect your bristles, right, boys? But these little suckers do more than just protect your bristles. I'll let the manufacturer explain:

Enclosed inside each steripod toothbrush protector is a laboratory formulated thymol compound. The compound is encapsulated in plastic with small holes that allow the thymol vapors to escape and surround your brush bristles. It's the vapors that do all the work. The entire steripod is shipped sealed in a medical quality enclosure - ensuring that the compound is not activated [by air flow] before you unwrap. All you have to do is clip the steripod on your brush! - compare to other toothbrush products and you'll love the no batteries, no socket, no hassle of steripod!

The thymol pad is supposed to last for three months, which is about when you should replace your toothbrush anyway, according to the American Dental Association. The ADA page also has a lot of information about bacteria on toothbrushes: "Toothbrushes have been shown to harbor bacteria (including fecal coliform bacteria that can be released into the air when the toilet is flushed or can be spread to the toothbrush when the owner touches a contaminated surface before handling his or her brush)." Ewwwie! Now, they do say that "there is no evidence that these bacteria cause adverse health effects," so go ahead and enjoy the fecal coliform bacteria.

Well, not me, mister!

Here is my actual toothbrush, reposing in its new Steripod like the late Michael Jackson in his hyperbaric chamber:

I guess it would be better for it to be upright, so moisture on the bristles can come down the neck. It's not airtight, nor is it supposed to be. But it does prevent the easy airflow toothbrushes normally enjoy. In fact, the design of the pod may be a problem; the ADA, those buttinskis, have this to say (emphasis added):

Rinse it with tap water to remove any remaining toothpaste and debris. Store it upright and allow it to air dry. If you store your toothbrush with other toothbrushes, make sure they are separated to prevent cross contamination. And do not routinely cover toothbrushes or store them in closed containers. A moist environment such as a closed container is more conducive to the growth of unwanted bacteria than the open air. 

Hmm. So does the Steripod prevent that because it has thymol to kill all the bacteria? I suspect they manufacturers will have a long way to go to get the coveted ADA approval seal.

Well, the toothbrush certainly smells clean. My first thought when I unwrapped the pod was, "That smells like my pediatrician's waiting room." I guess he used thymol to disinfect the place, maybe among other chemicals.

I'm already thinking way too much about my toothbrush now. I'm going to turn into Adrian Monk at this rate. The advantage for my bathroom is, between the Steripod killing airborne fecal coliform bacteria and the Poo-Pourri proactively killing odors, it'll be like no one ever poops in there.

What shall we fight about in 2017?

The old battles of 2016 are now behind us. Trump/Clinton, Kanye/Taylor, the Rock/Diesel, Kelly/Michael, Putin/Entire World -- we need to let these things go. But what will be the big fights that threaten to tear us to pieces in 2017?

Here are my predictions.

1. Hazelnut vs. Real Coffee

Gonna be a rumble tonight

People like hazelnut coffee. Well, some people do. I mean, some people must. Someone's buying it, right? It wouldn't exist otherwise. And who else has money besides people? Leftover Neanderthals? Martians? Kardashians? Okay, Kardashians have money but they can't be drinking it all.

But the rest of us really dislike hazelnut coffee, even if we like actual hazelnuts, and recoil from it like a stressed vampire on Easter morning. Anyone who ever got a snootful of an old, burned Mr. Coffee pot with a hazelnut grease slick in the bottom of the decanter can remember that smell and recall it in horror.

I think this is the year it all goes violent.

The hazelnutters are far outnumbered on this one, but to keep sucking down the hazelnut coffee in the face of universal disappropriation they must be fanatical in their devotion and willing to put up a strong fight. Watch for this one to break out in March, after a winter of being stuck inside offices with the food and coffee choices of our coworkers reeking (har!) havoc.

2. Underwear vs. Commando 

The fatter and older we get as a nation, the more skin we seem to want to show. This may be considered an error as well as an attack on modesty, not to mention prudence. And this is the year that the commando look becomes a big deal.

What does it matter if others want to run around without underwear? For one thing, we know from the experience of nude beaches that the people who go nudist are almost always the people one would least want to ever, ever see nude. Same here. Those loudest about their lack of underwear will be those whom you would most want to put on extra clothes, just in case the clothing they have on rips. Then you realize you just shook hands with one of them.

Hygiene will be the proper and adequate club used to fight back against the scourge of underwearlessness, but in a world where drunk people make permanent ink-stained errors on their own flesh and pay real money for the privilege, it's still going to be hard sell.

This fight will begin in summer, when people start sweating in earnest.

3. Fluoride vs. No Fluoride

Those Truthers who blamed Bush and Cheney for the 9/11 attacks have gone rather quiet since the man they backed has failed to disclose evidence of such conspiracy after eight years in the White House. Others, who just assume Obama is now in on it, may be getting tired of the topic and want something new to write placards about.

Just gets to be the same ol' same ol' after a while

So what good conspiracy theory can get people brawling? Contrails vs. Chemtrails? Too complicated. Vaxx vs. Anti-Vaxx? Meh, measles is coming back. Fluoride vs. No Fluoride? Hey...

Sure, the American Dental Association claims fluoride in the water supply saves teeth, but they didn't even bother to prove that flossing is good for you. So what does fluoride really do? Makes you docile and easy to control. That's why revolutionary small companies like Tom's of Maine make a fluoride-free toothpaste -- they're helping us break free!

This should start a good screaming match later in the year, especially as reason and evidence only proves to guys like the man shown above that you're part of the conspiracy. (My check is late, by the way, Mr. Illuminati....)

4. Marvel vs. DC

The all-time classic nerd battle, spilling out into the streets this year. In the 1960s, Marvel stole a march on DC by writing comics for more mature kids; in the 1980s, DC struck back; now Marvel has the more successful movies, but DC has the more mature movies and more successful TV shows. With eight DC and Marvel movies coming out this year, expect the geek-out freakout to begin around the release of Justice League in November. Also enjoy the internecine side fights (TV Flash vs. movie Flash, Holland vs. Maguire vs. Garfield as the webhead, etc.).

Well, those are my predictions for this year's big throwdowns. I'm sure we'll find a lot more to argue about, since when you put any two of us in a room you can get a fight.

Dogs got the life.

A lot of people say that dogs have it easy, and when you consider that no dog has ever had to write a check for the mortgage, it's easy to see where the conception comes from. Certainly some dogs have it easy---free food, free toys, people who spoil them, sometimes even breeding privileges. 

Of course, many dogs have terrible lives, and we all know what kinds of things can be included in that category.

And even for the dogs who live well, I wouldn't want to trade the freedom to come and go and get snacks at will for what they got. 

But what I'm getting at isn't the pampered pooches, but the medications for dogs. Here's one:

NexGard is a once-monthly chewable treat that dogs love, and causes the death of fleas and ticks that try to latch on to them. That's crazy good. The grossest thing I had to do in 2015 was pull a live tick out of my chest; you bet I'd like something like this for people. 

And on that score, there is no human vaccine currently available for Lyme disease; there was one, but it was just 78% effective, required a three shots, and was pricey, so people didn't like it and they took it off the market. But my dog gets a Lyme shot annually. 

Wouldn't it be great if some clever chap came up with a candy that caused mosquitoes to die when they landed on you? With malaria, dengue, West Nile, and now Zika all being spread by the little bastards, mosquitoes obviously deserve to die. I've seen some homeopathic pill that claims to repel mosquitoes, but I want something that really works, and preferably kills the bugs dead. 

Could we at least have a collar or maybe a belt that repels fleas, ticks, bedbugs, and mosquitoes? Maybe wasps too? How hard can that be? 

I'm not even asking that they make human drugs taste like snacks. Not all dog meds do, and we don't want little kids mistaking drugs for treats. I just want to kill the vectors that spread disease and itching and grossness. 

And I'm not even going to get into how dogs get to chew things that brush their teeth. I have to rip up my gums with brushes and floss and they get to eat stuff. Not just Milk-Bones and the like, either; the makers of NexGard have come out with a prescription snack (!) to fight dental decay in dogs. And I get tut-tutting from my dentist. The top of the food chain is looking a little suckier right now. 

Come on, Pfizer! You're losing Viagra's patent protection in 2017; get cracking here! You'll need the dough! Save the teeth, kill the mosquitoes. You can do this! 

Squeeze it dry.

Do you know what this is?

It's a clip designed to squash the toothpaste tube flat in an orderly manner, ensuring a nice even squeeze and a thorough emptying of the tube. I got it at the Container Store, but they're made by Jo!e, who sells them under the name Squeeze Ease Tube Squeezers, and they work just as advertised. Three bucks for a set of three. Of course, they are designed not to contain, but to un-contain, but perhaps the Container Store is branching out.

The Squeeze Ease Tube Squeezers may never make back what they cost in terms of how much more toothpaste they get from the tube, but they in addition to easing the squeeze, they ease your fears of waste, from which, as the proverb promises, want follows. (Further, there are pricey prescription medications that come in tubes and for those, these little devices may quickly prove their value.)

It got me thinking of opportunities for other stuff-removal products. The other stuff that's on the bottom of your tube or bags or boxes and so on is never worth very much, but it always seems like a waste to let it go. This could open the door for some enterprising young fellow---like me! (Or you, if you'll cut me in.) Here's some ideas I had---just spitballing, you understand....

Aspirin Dust Assembler---Takes all the dust at the bottom of the bottle of aspirin; reassembles it into a single aspirin pill. Any leftover dust can be saved and combined with the dust in the bottom of your next bottle. Works for Tums, too!

Saltine Mill---Cleverly takes the crumbs inside the saltine sleeve and grinds them into fine salty bread crumbs, which can be used with other plain bread crumbs to top your tuna casserole or make meatloaf or whatever weird thing you do with bread crumbs.

Cereal Sugar Refiner---Just pour the shards and colored sugar at the bottom of the Cap'n Crunch's Crunch Berries bag into the refiner, and out comes perfectly good decorator's sugar, excellent for cupcakes or cookies. Nothing like a little dose of Lucky Charms on your already sugar laden desserts.

Cheeto Reconfigurer---From the people that brought you the Aspirin Dust Assembler, it's the Cheeto Reconfigurer! Shakes the cheez and meal bits out of the "empty" bag and turns them into a complete Cheeto (or however much of a Cheeto can be created by what's available). Scrape off your orange fingers into the Reconfigurer and take bets on how much of a Cheeto can be churned out from the powder. Makes a great drinking game!

Peanut Oil Deglazer---Why waste all that good oil on the inside of your can of cocktail peanuts? The Peanut Oil Deglazer scrapes the can like crazy, yielding as much as .001 tablespoon of delicious salty peanut oil.

Wine Box Squeezer---Any good drunk will tell you there's more wine in that Mylar bag inside the box of Peter Vella's finest. The Wine Box Squeezer will flatten the box and the bag and give you the fine taste of the Chablis inside. Good to the last drop!

Dr. Ghoulsby's House of TERROR!

Halloween came early for me, children... I found myself trapped---TRAPPED! in the clutches of the fiendish Dr. Ghoulsby! 

I managed to escape by the skin of my teeth---which is quite fitting, actually.

I got this photo from my horrible imprisonment:

I don't think dentists wonder much about why people hate seeing them. Unless you're in dental agony, you're expecting your dentist to be a source of pain, not of relief. You don't think your sick teeth will kill you (WRONG!) and yet this guy hurts you more than your doctor, who treats you for things you know will kill you.

So much money goes into your dental health, too. Teeth make up such a small percentage of your body weight, and yet can easily swallow the majority of your healthcare spending, especially if you---like me!---have no dental insurance.

And that's where Dr. Ghoulsby's Office of Horrors comes in. When I went to see him I was anticipating a clean bill of health and a pat on the head and a "See you in six months!" Instead I got a "Gee, this tooth is a little soft by the filling" and a "We're just going to drill off that bit and patch it" and popping off the old filling and GOD WHAT IS THAT AAAAAAAH

What it was, was my rotten ol' tooth that had decayed under the filling, requiring a crown. Readers of this blog and its many Thing I Shouldn't Eat entries will have no trouble guessing how my enamel got to its low estate. My quick hi-how-are-ya bloody-gums cleaning turned---TERRIFYINGLY!---into thousands of dollars and two more visits. What the hell?!?

For the record, my dentist is an excellent dentist and an excellent human being. I couldn't praise him more if I were Donald Trump ("He's the BEST dentist in the world with a YUUUGE practice..."). And even he couldn't soften this blow.

I'm no fan of horror movies; my imagination is too horrible unaided. And I know there's more than enough real horror out there in the world. But for me, this was as bad a horror show as I want to endure this fall. I'd take twice the pain at half the price; I almost wish he'd pulled the damn thing.

Too late now.

MUCH TOO LATE!! MWAH AH AH!!!!!!

(I guess I'll have to say a novena that thousands of people buy my books so I can pay Dr. Ghoulsby to set me free. I think this may be karmic punishment for the character of Tilly McHeath, D.D.S., a.k.a. Matilda the Hun, Measleyville's craziest dentist, in MacFinster. Sorry!)

Dramatic tales from the basket of sales.

Sometimes in the supermarket you see those baskets of items at discount prices, and you wonder what led these apparently normal products off the shelves and into a pile. After all, if they were expected to sell, they'd probably still be on the shelf. I find that at my local Target, that usually means they are seasonal products past their season (Target is big on the pine-smelling soap at Christmas and cotton-candy air fresheners in summer, for example) or are close to or actually past their expiration date. In other stores it may mean the same thing. Or it may mean... something else.

Hello yourself! Looks like a premium brand of toothpaste, albeit with the unusual flavor of "Supermint" (which turned out to be pretty much peppermint, albeit tasty peppermint). It's made by a company called Hello Products of Montclair, New Jersey. What brought this friendly item to the bargain bin?

Procter & Gamble did. The toothpaste (and all other personal care products) titan, owners of Crest, sued, claiming that Hello's 99% Natural claim was false. Hello, seeing itself on the losing end regardless of the validity of P&G's claims, agreed to stop the 99% Natural claim, and gave away about 100,000 tubes so labeled, free of charge. The founder of Hello thanked P&G for "accelerating and amplifying our marketing efforts."

Maybe the store where I got this wasn't supposed to sell it, but return it to the company. I got it for cheap, anyway, but not for free.

You notice that another Hello product, one I did not find in the bargain bin, no longer says "99% Natural":

"Naturally Friendly" is much less of an actionable phrase, isn't it?

There's always a story. Just as every empty storefront has a tale of a broken heart, every bargain-bin dump has a tale of battle and drama. Much as I like Crest, I think P&G was trying to use the courts to smash a potential competitor before it got off the blocks, and just seized on whatever would work.

Hang in there, Hello! You may not really be 99% Natural, but you have very friendly products to look at first thing in the morning! And who doesn't like that?