I’m very old.
I went to the dentist last month. My dentist is a German lady. She is lovely. So lovely indeed that when she said, “Mr Campbell von of your teeth iss dead” I thought that perhaps I’d dropped off and dreamed it. “Whaffgggh?” I mumbled past her surgical glove.
“Dead,” she smiled looking over her safety glasses. “I vill give you a polish just now but it needs to come out before it gets infected and you vill need a krown”.
Well there we are. I’m going to lose my first adult tooth. Of course, until the dentist told me that my tooth was dead I hadn’t felt a thing. Now it throbs gently from the moment I get up to the moment I become engrossed in a project.
It dominates my life:
“When do you think that you’ll be down to present that shortlist?”
“Thursday next week if my tooth doesn’t have to come out that day”
“Are you coming to Paris?”
“Are the dentists any good if I need one?”
“Fancy a pint dad?”
“Only if you’re paying and my tooth doesn’t fall out.”
Now, on inspecting old x-rays, the dentist reckons it’s been dead since about 1986. It’s just that nobody noticed.
I’m looking now for a clunking metaphor to connect my long term but recently discovered dental distress with the day job. There are, to use a topical event, a number of open goals obvious to anyone with a beer and a decent telly. However in the six metre box down here on the pitch it’s much less obvious.*
Do I try the straightforward header, “Never leave your strategic people issues to fester”?
Perhaps the overhead kick, “Regular reviews of the top team will let you know if you have a chronic problem”?
Or maybe the Baroque deflection off the bar and the back of the keepers head, “X-ray your senior staff every six months to make sure they aren’t dead”?
Anyway over to you.
*Clearly , by asking for audience participation I’m trying to find out how many people look at the new website v LinkedIn and Twitter.