Choosing the right toothbrush is darned near impossible these days.

I remember a time (and this wasn't too long ago) when picking a toothbrush was easy. All you needed to have the right kind of toothbrush was a favorite color. In fact, even today when someone comes up to me at a party and asks a penetrating, provocative question like "What type of toothbrush do you prefer?" I tell them in all honesty that I like "the blue kind".

This proves two things: 1) I'm not very complicated when it comes to oral hygiene, and 2) I need friends who throw better cocktail parties.

I had never given my toothbrush much thought. In fact, it was only recently that I discovered toothbrushes come with differently sized brush heads — "small", for tiny mouths and "big", for big mouths like mine.

They also come with soft bristles or medium bristles, but you can waste an entire day looking through the rack for a toothbrush with "hard" bristles. Apparently, concerned mothers and market researchers both frown on bleeding gums.

When did toothbrushes morph into frightening mutant creatures? Most modern toothbrushes have handles bigger than a Schwinn's, which is unfortunate unless you have a bicycle rack in your bathroom. And if you're able to find one that fits into your toothbrush caddy, the neck will be bent so sharply that even the Boston Strangler would rather opt for a flip-top head.

And it doesn't stop with toothbrushes. Floss, the simplest of all cleaning devices, has gone high-tech. Flavored wax, once the ultimate in dental innovation, is passé. These days, "expanded polymers" and fancy applicator wands are all the rage. Just think of what 80's television would have been like, if today's super floss had been available to MacGyver.

I developed this new oral fixation after a trip to the dentist a few months ago. I booked a cleaning and an exam, explaining that, in all my life, I had only seen a dentist once before.

"Are you afraid of dentists?" asked the receptionist?

"No," I replied, "I'm afraid of getting their bill."

My dentist and his hygienist braced themselves for the worst, expecting a hooligan with jutting "bubba teeth" and rotting molars. But when they reviewed my x-rays and found them exceedingly straight, including all four wisdom teeth, and no hint of cavities — well, they saw me as a kind of miracle, a toothy deity gracing their office. A denti-god, if you will.

My dentist cheered and lifted me to sit on his shoulder, carrying me out of the examining room and through the lobby, into the street and directly into a parade that happened to be marching past. And that's exactly how I remember it, after he let me steal a whiff from the nitrous oxide tank.

The way I see it, my teeth are a natural wonder. But with great dental power comes great responsibility, and I didn't want to mess up a gifted set of mandibles like Morton Downey, Jr. did. So I threw away my Donald Duck toothbrush and headed straight to the drug store.

I knew that only the finest toothbrush would be good enough for amazing choppers like mine. But since that super toothbrush was electric, had water jets and a price tag totaling more than one hundred dollars, my standards dropped almost as quickly as my jaw.

My new toothbrush is battery operated, but it costs only $5 and comes with a head that spins like Linda Blair in The Exorcist. And when you add a few drops of toothpaste, my new brush shakes and foams like the final scenes of Old Yeller.

And let me tell you — this thing is amazing. I don't know how I ever brushed my teeth manually before. Using a battery operated toothbrush is like letting Superman brush your teeth, if Superman had ever done battle with the germs that cause the gum disease Gingivitis.

But despite everything I've learned, and despite all the advances that have taken place in the field of dental science, it's comforting to know that at least some things will never change.

My new toothbrush may be fancy, but still comes in blue.

Copyright © 2007 Andy Murphy
Please do not remove the copyright from this work.

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