At the age of 33, on the morn of St. Patrick’s Day, I found myself sitting under the harsh lights waiting to go under the drill – I had my wisdom teeth removed.  It was well overdue and needed to be done, but knowing that did not prevent my stomach from protesting as I approached the office door.  Intellect won the day because – as some wise man once said, my guts have shit for brains.  All told, it wasn’t a bad process and a half a day later I don’t feel all that bad. Read more “So Am I Less Wise?”