counting teeth


Wordsworth Drummond counted his blessings. It didn’t take long, like counting his available cash.

He lived one month at a time. Each month a new victory. Survival was the prize.

The price was working for posers in a place that could be called Jazz Hell. He tried to escape it by leaving Europe but he found it again in America. The way it works is that you only make enough to survive. Frozen and artistically frustrated, you take what you can get.

If only he could blame Obama. It wasn’t Pelosi’s fault either.

                       

Wordsworth’s mouth is a tribute to European Socialized Medicine. It should act as warning to all Americans.

Rules written in Brussels were handed down to all dentist in the EU. But they got in wrong in Brussels and many people contracted gum disease because they weren’t digging deep enough when they cleaned teeth. Drummond had a student who sat on the Dutch Dentistry Board who confirmed this.

For years, trouble with his teeth has limited what he could do. Even on the low end of Show Business, you need a nice smile. His attempt at an Internet job didn’t work out and even a part time job like Receptionist would also require this.

But Jazz Hell is not that bad. It’s mostly boring. And it takes skill. Without skills he’d be first in line for government cheese. The music lessons, degrees, hard work and experience have gotten Wordsworth Drummond through countless months. Each one a small victory.

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