I have always liked my dentist. The first time I went to see him, in 1990, he looked in my mouth and declared: “There’s a lot of work I could do in there but until something starts bothering you we’ll just leave it alone.” My affection for him grew even stronger this week when Hania received a reminder from him to make an appointment. It was printed like an old Florida postcard, “Greetings from your DENTIST” it read, with the letters of the last word filled with tropical scenes. Underneath, instead of “Wish you were here,” were the words “Hope you can make it…”
