That's Waaaaay Too Much Protection For Me, Thank You

I have to admit, I've gotten pretty confident that it's nearly impossible for me to be a sucker for obvious manipulation.

I pat myself on the back for what I see as an ability to see through the Matrix of advertising, to call bullshit on people underhandedly trying to secure my allegiances.

I even analyze the use of exclamation points. The more there are, the more suspicious you should be.

Risk Free!

Buy Two Get A Third For A Penny!!!

Going Out Of Bizness!!!!!!!!

But when it comes down to it, I'm an American. And that means I have been programmed by advertising since birth. Any aspiration to completely conquer the subconscious forces that lie beneath is wishful thinking.

So ...

I have a molar tooth that had its bonding come apart and caused quite a bit of pain. A month ago I had it reinforced. The dentist told me the pain that I had had whenever I chewed would go away after time. A month later, though, it still hurt.

I went to the dentist again the other day. The talkative hygenist lady tortured my gums into an inflamed but exceptionally clean flaming red mush. The dentist came in, looked at the X-ray of my nerves touching the new bond in the tooth and told me that it would take another month or two for it to all "settle down" and feel better.

He told me a good way to help the process along would be to brush with some Sensodyne toothpaste. Just for a few weeks. No more than a month.

I had only heard about this stuff on commercials, when I was a kid. Maybe when Bob Barker had some old lady on "The Price Is Right" trying to win a new dinette set: "Which costs more, Esther? The tube of Sensodyne or this fine pair of Jordache jeans?"

I decided to follow his advice. The dentist's, that is.

So, I went into the grocery store and looked for my sweet elixir of raging-tooth relief.

My eyes immediately keyed in on the "Fresh Mint" flavor "Maximum Strength" Sensodyne.

I thought, "'Maximum Strength?' Should I go with that? Or is that too much? He told me not to brush with it for more than a month or so. I wouldn't want to overdo it."

I moved on to the rest of the selection -- the "Tartar Control" and "Whitening" specials.

But then I noticed something.

They were all labeled "Maximum Strength."

I felt it wash over me. A kind of, let's say, QVC moment of suckerness. The kind I felt as a young adult emerging from a childhood of mass indoctrination and realizing that Isotoner gloves weren't really any more special just because my hero Dan Marino shilled them on TV.

There is no "Minimum Strength" or "Moderate Strength."

It's like "Green" on the terror alert scale: It exists, but only in a hypothetical world that will never materialize because the point is to give you a false frame of reference to start from. You'll never see cable TV news slap up a graphic that reads "Terror Alert: Low."

I don't know. I guess the toothpaste gives me comfort knowing that there is still room in my life for a pure and genuine gullibleness that I thought had left me long ago.

And there's comfort in knowing that my toothpaste isn't for wussies.