Facing Aversions and Phobias
There’s no scientific name for the aversion so many of us have to metal scraping against metal, fingernails on a chalkboard or biting down on a towel. I can barely write about this without clenching my teeth.
There are many theories about why these noises affect us, and the one I latched on to is that the sound resembles the high-pitched warning screech of primates like macaque monkeys, triggering an instinctive fight-or-flight response in us.
Which brings me to the other night, when I was doing my best to come up for air from my incredibly busy schedule. Between cleaning for house showings, raising a family, social media consulting and blogging, I have no time to get organized.
I was sitting at my desk when I heard a macaque-like scream, and my hair stood on end, more than usual. Tucker has a very loose tooth. It’s sticking straight out of his mouth, but because a new tooth is growing behind it, it seems locked in, and Wade has been hovering menacingly, waiting for the chance to yank it out. When I heard the scream, I dropped everything and ran upstairs to my child’s rescue.
I found Tucker locked in Wade’s embrace, with Wade trying to get at the tooth with a pair of pliers, but Tucker would have none of it and had his upper lip wrapped tightly over his teeth. OK, I’ll admit the pliers were my idea. Stubborn loose teeth, like stitches and haircuts, have become an expense I don’t care to spend my latest paycheck on.
Standing there as an observer, I put myself in Tucker’s shoes. Wasn’t it just yesterday that we were coddling him and protecting him from anything that might cause him pain? What had we become? An image from my childhood flashed before my eyes: my sister Melanie swatting the needle away from her mouth so the dentist injected his own hand with Novocain. Kids don’t do pain. If Wade were my dad, there’s no way I would ever let him near my loose tooth, pliers or not.
Brevitt and Axel came in to coach Tucker. Brevitt, who recently had a root canal applied a coaching technique, eleven-year-old version: “Tucker, you know when you fall off your bike into gravel, and the gravel gets in your wound and Daddy has to scrub it out? Well, this won’t hurt any worse than that.” As Brevitt spoke, Tucker cocked his head to one side to listen, and once the information sank in, he went right back to screaming. Somebody give me a paper bag to breathe into!
This went on for about an hour until Wade got fed up and walked away. That’s when Tucker decided that having Wade pull the tooth was a better choice than going to the dentist and getting shots, and he began chanting that he wanted it out. Brevitt and I took over. Now, I can tell you the idea of pulling a wiggly tooth is about as abrasive as the sound of metal against metal, but I wanted this to be over. Wade came back a short while later and found Brevitt and me ready to pass out, foreheads pressed together, clearly not up for the task.
The next morning, I got up to clean the bathrooms for a showing. That’s when I received an invitation to join Michael Conniff on The Jerry Bovino Show. I thought about my last interview, when my new friend Lynn Aliya interviewed me on her show, The Buzz on 82, and I froze like a deer in headlights with no personality. You see, another aversion I have is being live in the spotlight. It occurred to me that if my hair were in order, I might feel more comfortable, so I put down my toilet brush and Lysol and placed an emergency call to my hair guy for a blowout, and I raced up to have him rescue me from my “silky snarls,” as Wade calls them.
Another day in the life here at Aspen Real Life. And now I’m off to see Jerry and Michael. Wish me luck, and pray I don’t get stage fright and pass out under the lights.
