Hide It Under a Bush?

Root canals have gotten a bum rap.

There have been times in the past when I’ve (either silently or aloud) tossed off the phrase “I’d rather get a root canal” when confronted with an unappealing alternative. It’s a more sarcastic but admittedly overused equivalent of “Hell, no!”

Do you want to go running tomorrow? “I’d rather get a root canal.”
Let’s take a camping vacation! “I’d rather get a root canal.”
Wouldn’t it be fun if we all dressed up in crazy hats and sang ”Happy Days Are Here Again” at the staff meeting? (Umm … you get the idea.)

But those times were before I’d actually experienced the procedure under discussion. Yesterday I learned the truth—that due to the advances of modern dentistry, a root canal is no more painful or even uncomfortable than getting one’s hair highlighted. Sure, it costs ten times as much; for me, a confirmed nickel-squeezer, that part does smart some. But come on, what rational person WOULDN’T rather have a root canal than go running? You get to lie still in a recliner for an hour and a half! No changing clothes, no sweating, no blisters. Weirdly, though, the aftereffects for each activity—the drooling and the mumbling—are pretty much the same.

The problem is, now I need to retire my careworn, not-so-snappy riposte. When a suggested activity has less appeal than watching an instructional DVD on the essentials of sound design (which, believe me, really could be suggested around here), I’ve got nothing in my arsenal.

But wait a minute. Remember the old Sunday School song "This Little Light of Mine"? My friend Erin, as a child, thought the lyrics went: “Hide it under a bush? HELL, NO! I’m gonna let it shine.” You gotta admit, that kills.