On Finding a Piece of my Tooth in my Mouth

I chipped a tooth today. Which is pretty scary.

Not scary because I chipped a tooth. I've chipped teeth before, through various accidents. Some involving ice, others cars, so one and so forth.

But I chipped my tooth by chewing a Quizno's Regular Classic Italian Sub with Banana Peppers. Which contains nothing that is deemed chipable (call webster).

Really, my tooth just chipped because it was weak, that is what really scares me. Because maybe my teeth are the first to go in this vessel of mine, next could be the cuticles, then suddenly I cant sow because my hands hurt, my dick dont work without a pill 4 hours before hand, the music is too loud, my family and friends are falling like Somalian fruit flies, and I realize the unforgiving winter is here and it is time to pay the retribution for our summer laziness.

Growing old always reminds me of a poem from Adam Penna. Read it at: http://loveofasleeper.wordpress.com/sample-poem/

Not that the poems is saying this, but it does bring to mind an idea. I enjoy the idea of the idea of growing old, and rather than fading away, or burning out, one becomes nameless and forgotten, but it doesnt really matter which way it ends, to any one else but the dyer (maybe call webster).

It isnt completely true. Which is to say, it isnt completely false. But then again. What is?

So I cant stop tounging this little hunk of jagged tooth I am left with. It was in the bottom front row. Best seats in the house.

I have since realized that this location of the chip, was where the focal point of my nail biting career. Which is probably why it was weakend, through years of nervousness and necessity. And, I'm sure, because of the fact I grind my teeth when I sleep, which I found out this week.

Getting old. Age, really, is just the exchange between dental decay and peace of mind. Which, generally, tends to flow one way.

My body is on the universal downward trend.