[su_heading size=”18″]Facing Aversions and Phobias[/su_heading]
There are no scientific names for the aversion that many of us have to the scraping of metal against metal, fingernails scraping down a chalkboard or biting on a towel. I can barely write about this without clenching my teeth.
There are many theories as to why these noises affect us and the one that I latched on to was from wisegeek.com, “Some believe the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard is similar to an animal’s high-pitched screech indicating danger to the rest of its group. Macaque monkeys, for example, have been known to emit a warning noise of relatively the same pitch and duration of the dreaded fingernails on a chalkboard sound. It has been suggested that humans react to the sound instinctively, creating a “fight or flight” response.”
This all 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 find I have no time to get organized.
I was sitting at my desk trying to come up for air when I heard a Macaque like scream and my hair stood on end, more than the norm. Tucker has a very loose tooth. It is sticking straight out of his mouth but because of the new tooth growing behind it, it seems to be locked in and Wade has been hovering menacingly over him waiting for that opportunity to yank it out. When I heard the scream, I dropped everything I was doing and ran upstairs to my child’s rescue.
I found Tucker locked in Wade’s embrace with Wade trying to get at Tucker’s tooth with a set of pliers but Tucker would have none of it and had his upper lip tightly wrapped over his teeth. Ok, I’ll admit that the pliers were my idea. Stubborn loose teeth, like stitches and haircuts, have now 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 could possibly cause him any pain? What had we become? An image from my childhood passed before my eyes with my sister Melanie hitting the shot away from her mouth causing the dentist to inject his own hand with the Novacaine. Kids don’t do pain. If Wade were my dad, there would be no way in hell I would ever let him anywhere near my loose tooth, plyers or not.
Brevitt and Axel came in the room to coach Tucker. Brevitt, who recently had a root canal done from the incredible Dr. Roger Brown, was applying a similar coaching technique on Tucker, only an eleven year old version. “Tucker, you know when you ride your bike and you fall off it into gravel, and the gravel gets inside your wound and then daddy has to scrub the gravel out? Well this won’t hurt any worse than that.” As Brevitt was speaking Tucker did his usual cocking of his head to one side to listen and once the information soaked in, he resumed to screaming. Somebody give me a brown bag to blow in!
This went on for about an hour until Wade got fed up and walked away. That was when Tucker decided that having Wade pull out his tooth was a better choice than going to the dentist and getting shots and so he began to chant that he wanted the tooth to come out. Brevitt and I took over. Now I can tell you that the idea of pulling out a wiggly tooth is about as abrasive an idea as the sound of metal against metal, but I wanted this to be over with. Wade revisited a short while after and found Brevitt and I ready to pass out with our foreheads pressed against each other, clearly not up for the task.
The next morning, I woke up to clean the bathrooms for the showing. It was then that I received the invitation to join Michael Conniff on the Jerry Bovino show. I thought about my latest interview where I froze as my new friend, Lynn Aliya, interviewed me on her show, The Buzz on 82. I had no personality and was like a deer in headlights. You see, another aversion I have is being live in the spotlight. It occurred to me that perhaps if my hair was in order, I might feel more comfortable and so I put down my toilet brush and Lysol to dial 911 to Jerome Marks, Owner of the Hair Salon, Altitude. Jerome gives the best blow out in the West and I raced up to him to rescue me from my silky snarls, as Wade calls them.
Another day in the life over here at Aspen Real Life. And now I’m off to see Jerry and Michael. Wish me luck and pray for me that I don’t get my dreaded stage fright and pass out under the lights.