The fears of an ignoramus Chicken Little

If you look at the comparison chart of stock market indices for Canada and the U.S. over last five years, they match reasonably except for last six months. Dow Jones has jumped almost twenty percent and Toronto index is treading water. One would think that the economy down south is booming while we have double digit unemployment and major housing crisis.

While the drop in commodity prices is blamed by many, it does not explain the whole difference. There is something else underlying this jump in the stocks south of the border. Rather than superficial projections we have seen in business media lately, this rise needs detailed investigation to learn what it mean for the stocks in near future. What would keep me awake at night if I had American stocks is the strong possibility that evaluations are getting way ahead of the economy and a minor collapse in next few months is possible. If this were to occur, it has an implication not only for global economy but the U.S. presidential elections as well.

A Broken Tooth

Ravi has a very short memory. He may have an excuse though. When you hit seventies, memory is the first thing to go. But he has had this problem ever since he was a child. What makes it strange is that he can remember most things perfectly. He can repeat verbatim the whole conversation if you accused him of not paying attention. He never forgets where he put his wallet, or the keys or the phone numbers. But ask him what he had for breakfast, he has no clue. It can be a problem once in a while but it also has its benefits. He had the same sandwich - cream cheese and sliced tomato on whole wheat bread - every working day for forty years. He has had the same breakfast since the day Monica moved with him fifty one years ago. She lovingly makes for him in a large tub of granola with identical ingredients once every three months. Every morning Ravi puts a cup of it in a bowl, pours skimmed milk on top and lets it sit for an hour when he reads the newspapers; national newspaper to find out what is going on in this world of ours and the local broadsheet to note the date of memorial service if one of his acquaintances has passed away.

It was Monday two weeks ago. It was a normal Canadian winter morning, blowing snow and the temperature of minus twenty centigrade, still dark at eight o’clock. He noted happily that every one that mattered to him was still alive and picked up the breakfast bowl. He put a spoonful in his mouth and chewed. “How did the rock get in here,” he wondered aloud as the teeth met resistance. He spit it out on a paper towel and here it was. A tooth, not just a piece, a whole tooth! Where did it come from? He looked in the mirror. Horror of horrors. There was a gap right in the middle of the top row. It did not hurt. He felt the space with the index finger of his right hand. The base below the gum line was there, the rest had broken off and it was lying along with bits of granola on the towel.

In a situation like this there is not much one can do except call the dentist. Ravi has a really good person looking after his teeth who is available to him for long distance consultation twenty four hours a day. He called Freda, his daughter, who practices dentistry in a small town one thousand kilometers away and asked her what kind of glue he needed to glue it back. “No, it can not be glued back, space age glues don’t work with teeth in the mouth,” he heard her say. She also confirmed what he had suspected all along - she couldn’t do much on skype because her drill does not travel through wires. He had to go to her clinic and she would get her receptionist to put him in the next available spot.

A combination of taxi, shaky small plane, another taxi took Ravi to Freda’s clinic on Wednesday afternoon. She looked at the tooth and shook her head vigorously, “Not a good sign. Rest of the tooth has to be removed and then a new tooth has to be implanted. Just as well you called me. Ten thousand dollars will stay in the family rather than go to a stranger who is already loaded.” This was done on Thursday after hours because she had the whole day booked. She drilled through the bone and inserted what would be the root of the new tooth. It had to settle before the tooth could be put in. So, for three months Ravi would have to go around with his lips firmly in contact with each other as if attached by a space age glue. His accent is already difficult for most people, the mumble would be impossible to decipher. He can only hope that there would be a few friends left when he opens his mouth with a gleaming enamel tooth replacement. Hindu scriptures and the tradition in his family permitted him the society of his friends for a couple more years before he was to take on the solitary life of a monk at the age of seventy five.

He returned home on Friday and started the regimen of two pills – one pain killer and one antibiotic – three times a day. Killer was a bit of an exaggeration but the pain did become tolerable. Something, could it be the antibiotic, made his stomach ache and turn everything he ate into gas which made him bloat and found every outlet it could at most inconvenient times. Thankfully, no inconvenience lasts for ever and the pain in the mouth and the gas were gone after two weeks without causing lasting damage and hopefully never to show their ugly faces again. Life returned to as normal as it can be when the mouth can not be opened in public.