Daniel's Blessing

A New Christmas Poem 

Here is a wrinkle on the Christmas message that you may not have yet tied together, the part played by the prophet Daniel in securing the safety of the Holy Family, and ensurung that the prophesies were all fulfilled. It is in my Christmas Poems book

Daniel’s Blessing

A Christmas Story

Daniel was a wise man, he lived in Babylon city

Watered by the Euphrates with hanging gardens pretty.

And ruled by the most powerful kings, whom God had raised to show

His chosen people, Israel, what they should do and know.

Those kings within their royal courts had councilors who knew

The meaning of the heavenly lights and ancient writings too.

And it was Daniel who was saved by God in the lions’ den

Who rose to be the leader of all the king’s wise men.

He added to their catalogue the Jewish Scriptural lore

So they could see the proof in the prophesies before.

Subsequent generations of scholars would retain

An expectation of fulfilment of predictions that remain

Now, they had known for many years a new King would arise,

They knew that there would be a sign before He lived and died.

Jeremiah prophesied that seventy years would pass 

Before the exiles could return back to Judea at last.

From those ranks of scholars we were marked to bring

Royal gifts and homage to God’s incarnate King,

And we remained in readiness to reach across the sand

Bringing praise to the arrival in that far off land.

People call me Gaspar tradition lends this name

Same for Melchior and Balthazar but these we do not claim,

We traveled all together from what was Babylon,

And it was to Judea that we had come and gone. 

It was by Daniel’s haptids that we could tell the date,

And so we crossed seven hundred miles to reach Jerusalem’s gate.

The  Angel Gabriel brought the message that gave that prophet his ken,

Sent by the God of Jacob above all gods of men.

So when we saw the heavenly sign shine brightly in the sky

We prepared to journey forth my Magi brothers and I.

From our mountain sanctuary where books and treasure were stored

We gathered up the gifts to take as homage to the Lord.

Our road was clear before us although we traveled far

For constantly above us we saw the guiding star.

And after many weeks of trials from whence we sallied forth

We passed through the Damascus gate, entering from the north.

There we enquired of all we met “Where is the new born king?”

And we were quite astonished none could tell us a thing.

So we went to Herod’s palace envisioning he would know,

But our questions caused great anguish and pacing to and fro.

Herod summoned up his own wise men and asked them to explain,

Then they remembered Micah quoting Bethlehem by name.

Before we ventured on our way Herod asked us privately,

“To go and find the child and then bring back the news to me!”

Going on we saw the star that drew us, and as we went

In a dream God warned us of King Herod’s fell intent.

We traveled with great haste and joy and gratitude untold,

Bearing presents fit for a king, myrrh, frankincense and gold.

It seemed as if the heavenly light drew us to the site

Hovering just above their home guiding us that night.

Humbly and with wonder we bowed on entering 

Reverently we stooped in worship to the new born King.

Finally after centuries the prophesies were fulfilled

With all the signs and wonders just as God had willed

With their Davidic heritage and here the virgin birth

We had the confirmation that Messiah had come to earth

Carefully we each untied the packages we bore

Preparing to surrender the treasures in our store,

Before the holy infant we each knelt and gave a gift,

Then we left another way leaving Herod short shrift.

Daniel’s prophetic blessing informed us when to ride,

To come and pay our homage and for their needs provide,

And guided by an angel they packed and fled that night,

We too departed breaking ranks, slipping off and out of sight.

To the south went Joseph with Mary and the babe

Crossing through the desert, thus King Herod’s plan evade.

So the prophesy was fulfilled “Out of Egypt I call my son”,

The humble family was preserved, our blessed work was done.

Amen

Other books by Neil Stewart McLeod

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B099D9Q2Z6/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=1365b0eb-42fb-4f98-b15b-ed87d95e40d9&store_ref=ap_rdr&ref_=ap_rdr

Eric and the Wolves

 

Wolves Attack by Afanasij Sheloumoff with permission

This wonderful old story was told to me when I was a small boy by my great aunt "Kitty", the daughter of Henry Clutton the architect. She would read to us from a lovely collection of books seeding at an early age in all of us children and appreciation for good stories. The poem is published in the book "A Shell In My Pocket"

There are many tales of valor

That fill out history’s pages,

They touch our hearts when they are told

And ring down through the ages.

The Russian snows have many woes

That only courage resolves,

Not least the tale that will not pale

Of Eric and the wolves.

Eric was a Cossack lad

Who loved his master dearly.

He loved his mistress and their children

One could see that clearly.

At their lovely country manse

Through summer and the fall

Eric did the chores and errands

At their beck and call.

And should the day be fair and dry

He might take the children riding,

Down to the river’s shaded rills

Where sturgeon might be hiding.

Towards the end of autumn

When leaves come flittering down,

They start to think of closing up

And driving back to town.

Their route was through the forest

Then across the barren waste

To reach the gates of Rostock,

For safety they made haste.

That year the snows came early,

So Eric went out to the barn

To prepare the troika sled

For their safe return.

The family’s trunks and travel chests

Were tied to the luggage rack,

The lunch boxes and comfy throws

Stowed neatly in the back.

The horses had been watered,

Hitched up with buckle and lash,

And the whip and trusty Mosin

Were set beside the dash.

With doors and windows bolted

And house closed for the freeze,

They climbed up on the well stuffed seat

With blankets on their knees.

Eric was the driver,

At the reins he took his seat

With “walk on” the dunga bells

Went chinging to the beat

As off they go a trotting,

Trot trot trotting through the snow,

Each horse with a breast collar

And one with shafts and bow.

The side steeds at the canter

As they slip down the lane,

Past the fields to the forest

Heading back to town again.

Morning still was early,

The sun was on the rise,

On the ridge as they go trotting on

A group of wolves he spies.

With a “Trot Hup” Eric was singing

And the donga bells were chinging

“Troika here, troika there, 

To the town and to the fair,

Troika here, troika there 

Leather stuffed with horses hair,

Troika here , troika there, 

Omsk is just a bit too far.

Troika here, Troika there, 

Long live our beloved Tzar.”

As he sang they gained the forest

Slipping down the narrow lane

Past the naked stands of trees

Heading back to town again.

But still he saw them prowling,

And then they started howling

Howling and a prowling 

Keeping pace upon the brow.

The family members feared 

As the growing danger neared,

And the father armed the Mosin

As he could see them now.

“Trot hup” demanded Eric 

As he slapped upon the reins

And the horses strode on faster

And the blood pulsed in their veins.

Running then and galloping 

They’d picked up the pace,

The yapping wolves in a pack

Started to give chase.

On they came and closer

And the master took his time,

Barrel on the seat back

He waited for a line.

Finally the lead dog 

Was nearly on the sleigh

Then crack the forest rattled 

The wolf yelped in dismay.

The pack paused in their gambit,

They broke to make review

But in a trice a second beast

Took up pursuit anew.

On they came and quickly

The horses were at risk,

A second shot rang out but oh!

Misfortune, for it missed.

The third round hit the target

At which the whole pack reared,

They had now learned that gun shots

Were something to be feared.

But though they faltered and held back,

Some others on the hill

Were calling to each other

And chasing with a will.

Down they leapt together

Attacking from the side,

Eric snapped his whip

And it became a wild ride.

The horses now were frantic

Their breath steamed in the air,

The first wolf leapt, the rifle cracked 

And stopped it then and there.

The rest dropped back sniff him, 

For a moment there was doubt,

There were only two rounds left

In magazine and spout.

The team kept charging forwards

In fear they made haste,

Before them was the forest edge

And then the barren waste.

Faintly in the distance

Could be seen the Rostock walls

With its gaudy mechet steeples

And the safety of its halls.

Onward ever onward

They surge across the plain

But leaping on relentlessly

The wolves catch up again.

“Here take the reins.” cried Eric

To his master in the back

“Let me try to fend them off

When they next attack.”

So switching their positions

Eric manned the rear

Waiting till the lead was close

And the shot was clear.

Then crack the rifle echoed

The target fell away

Slowing the accomplices

Faltering in dismay.

In a trice they rallied

As fervent as before,

Leaping forwards through the snow

Gaining more and more.

Once close enough and sighted

The rifle gave its crack

But that demise did not deter

The others in attack.

Reaching for reinforcements

Eric seized the whip

Lashing out repeatedly

He made them feel its tip.

Each snap sent one yelping

As its snout was slashed,

But threats did not diminish 

For on the others dashed.

The horses were the target

As wolves came from the rear,

So Eric clambered up to

Ride postilion without fear,

Thrashing to the left and right

He kept the beasts at bay,

But some thing different must be done

If he’s to save the day.

Now half way across the plain

Eric knew what it would take,

The foes would need distracting

If they were to reach the gate.

Should a horse be taken down

It can’t be cut away,

The sleigh would stop and nothing

Could keep the wolves at bay.

So Eric jumped and ran off

With the whip in hand

Instantly the pack gave chase

Just the way he planned. 

He turned on them to stand his ground

The wolves leapt on to him.

While the troika got away

They tore him limb from limb.

The watchers on the Rostock gate

Could hear the dunga ching,

They gave the signal of alarm 

To let the travelers in.

The moment that they entered

The gates were then secured

Saving horses and the troika

And the family Eric adored.

There are many tales of valor

That fill out history’s pages,

They touch our hearts when they are told

And ring down through the ages.

The Russian snows have many woes

That only courage resolves,

Not least the tale that will not pale

Of Eric and the wolves.

Continuing the tradition - Burns Night

 

The Tam O'Shanter Restaurant in Los Angeles has been serving wonderful meals for their patrons for one hundred years. For the last forty two of them Dr. Neil McLeod has been "Slaying the Haggis" in style with a blade named Haggis Slayer, that must have slain more Haggis than any other blade in Chistendom, although the Guiness Book of World Records declined to print it. With pipes and drum and a dancer the the diners are regaled with Robert Burns' Address To A Haggis in taditional Scots style.  The proof of it is here in the video so click away.

Earlier slayings can be evidenced here: https://www.losfelizledger.com/article/a-good-auld-time-burns-night-at-the-tam-oshanter/  

and here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wCWY33-trEY

and here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pX3Z09bcluw

Los Angeles Daily News: https://www.dailynews.com/2018/01/24/why-the-hottest-party-in-l-a-celebrated-a-long-gone-scottish-poet/

La Weekly : https://www.laweekly.com/burns-supper-celebrating-a-scottish-poetry-legend-with-whisky-and-sheep-innards/

Ngong the Giant

 The best news this Christmas season is from my dear friend Jim Covell who has been working on the soundtrack for our latest collaboration "The Legend of the Giant Ngong".  He has finished the album and it is being released on cdbaby and will be on iTunes and Amazon. The book that accompanies is beautifully illustrated by Sue Hooper-Laurie and is available on Amazon and elsewhere.

https://open.spotify.com/album/0icnuiMDXExpj4Zb2sMx8P?si=Qa3dMGZ_QEiak8zNlgCXHA&nd=1

The book is available on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Legend-Ngong-Giant-Maasai-Tale/dp/1500737615?

L.A. Blue - new poems

Nothing to do with Covid, this new book of poems is all about Los Angeles as it was, and hopefully will be again.  Filled with little nuances which you may not have known about or even thought about, these poems tell little secrects about the city of angles. Los Angeles will change you forever, you may not notice it at first, but one's perspective is altered. Here are some things to think about!

If you want to know how Farmers Market got started, or what the Hollywood sign used to say then you should take a peek inside.  There is even an explanation of how Forest Lawn became a funeral park.

It was a busy year trying to make use of the openings in my practice schedule which seemed like Swiss cheese.  But working with Sue Hooper Lawrie really moved the writing schedule forwards. The idea of a book of poems just about LA began a long time ago, but finally there was enough material to pull together so here it is:

https://www.amazon.com/s?k=LA+Blue+poems+by+Neil+Stewart+McLeod&ref=nb_sb_noss 

Blue sky every day

In sunny Los Angeles

An endless summer

At the Huntington Library
 

Paul Washer and Men Of The Word

 

Last night, April 21st, at Grace Community Church, 815 men sat under the instruction of our guest speaker, Paul Washer when he taught from 1st Corrinthians. His subject was God's call to young men, who need to "act like Men".  The discussion afterwards with Dr Brad Klassen (left) and Paul Washer (right) was moderated by Josh Petras(our high school pastor).

Men from seven to ninty four attended and were exaulted to take the lead and follow their God given responsibility to lead heir families inspite of fear.

The discussion will be continued when at the men's event this coming Saturday morning, April 24th, we expect 2000 men to attend when our subject will be "Not of This World"

The event is free, is at 8:00 a.m. and we invite all men to join us for a time of exhortaion, admonition and encouragement.

You can reserve a space here https://www.gracechurch.org/forms/829

Not of This World

When challenged about the world’s influence in our lives, most of us respond dismissively. We are quick to denounce the perverted trends of the culture and highlight our participation in the church. We may even sport a bumper sticker that declares, “not of this world.”

Yet worldliness is far more subtle than we often recognize, and this is precisely what makes it so dangerous. It thrives among those ignorant of its threats and naïve about its schemes, who think worldliness can be identified merely by sight, or mortified by a simple list of “dos and don'ts"—or the display of a bumper sticker.

The gravity of this problem is illustrated in the commands given by the writers of the New Testament. The Apostle Paul had to urge the believers in Rome to “not be conformed to this world” (Romans 12:2). He exhorted the Colossian church to set their minds “on the things above, not on the things that are on earth” (Colossians 3:2) and reminded the Philippian believers that “our citizenship is in heaven” (Philippians 3:20). John stated it bluntly, “Do not love the world nor the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him” (1 John 2:15).

The very fact that the writers of the New Testament address the topic of worldliness with reminders and warnings illustrates that even saints are prone to love the world. If this was a problem in their day, it is no less a problem in ours. As much as ever, we are in need of biblical reminders and warnings. We cannot afford to be ignorant. Therefore, this year’s Men of the Word event will focus on the problem of worldliness: how to identify its subtle features, how to mortify it, and how to cultivate tis antithesis—a life resolutely focused on Christ.

We invite all men to recognize the clear and present danger and join us on Saturday morning, April 24, for a time of exhortation, admonition, and encouragement.

Livestream of the event will be available at gracechurch.org/live.

An Easter Poem - The triumphal Entry

The Folded Palm

from the book "When The Spirit Moves"

John 12 ,“Fear not, daughter of Zion; behold, your King is coming sitting on a donkey’s colt.”  Dr. William Varner who teaches at The master's University contends that it was on a Monday that the Lord entered into Jerusalem, not a Sunday

I keep a palm leaf in my bible

It’s folded and plaited and dry,

It reminds me of when the palm fronds waved

In profusion as Jesus rode by.

It reminds me of that fateful day

When the fickle crowd faltered and failed

Turning from frantic welcomes

To denials, in the court where they railed.

“Hosanna”, they called as He rode in

“Hosanna” they cried out with zeal,

“Blessed is He that comes in the name

Of the Lord, King of Israel”.

How quickly their attitude altered,

As the Pharisees looked on with scorn.

How deep and complete their denials

When the trials were done with the dawn.

The Pharisees saw as He rode in

On a donkey, the Scripture fulfilled,

And they plotted within their jealous hearts

How the Son of Man would be killed.

How sad Jesus was when He saw them,

For He knew every thought, every plan.

He could see how the crowd would reject Him,

And desert Him to a man.

I ask myself if I’d deny Him

Had I been in the crowd long ago.

For even Peter who loved Him,

Denied Him, three times in a row.

He rode through the crowds on a donkey,

Anointed, the Paschal Lamb

He gave His life so that I might live

 - Sinner that I am.

So I keep a palm leaf in my bible.

It’s folded and plaited and dry.

It reminds me of when the palm fronds waved

In profusion as Jesus rode by.

It reminds me that He died for me

That He came to atone for our sin,

So that my poor soul might be saved

And on the last day welcomed in. 

 

A recording of this poem with music by James Covell is available on Spotify and iTunes

https://music.apple.com/us/album/when-the-spirit-moves/1411054434

Out On A Limb: Building a Tree House

 In 2003 a start was made finding a way build a tree house in the stone pine on the hill in our garden.  It took eleven months. It is hard to imagine that anyone would not want to have a tree house in their back yard if they had the chance. It would be a place for children to get out of the house, a quiet hideaway to sit and write a poem, or extra sleeping quarters for stay-over guests who want to try hammocks. Perhaps even a sweet heart get away where you could tell someone you love them.

Here with sequential photographs is a record of how our tree house was built, set out in a way that is instructive and easy to understand. After sixteen years the structure has stood the test of time.

The book is available on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1496158814?ref_=pe_3052080_397514860

A Traditional American Thanksgiving Poem

 

It is with great joy that I write to tell you that the Thanksgiving poem have been illustrated by Sue Hooper-Lawrie and is now available in the stores in time for the holiday.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08HQ6DX7B?ref_=pe_3052080_397514860

Please write a review!

Take a look at a few of her wonderfully colorful drawings, and share them with the family and your friends.

Giving Thanks!

Welcoming the Wampanoags!

Saying farewell to the "Mayflower"

A Shell In My Pocket

 People tell me stories, I like that!  Every now and then I am so struck by the tale that I have to write it down and take, you might even say steal, the idea and after juggling with the notions a poem appears. “The Licorice Store”, “Maddie’s Ring” and “The Stamp On The Cow” are good examples.  None of us write in isolation, we are dependent upon others, so many others. This anthology of new poems is dedicated to all those people whose stories are captured on these pages.  It contains stories that I struggled to write over many years but lacked the inspiration.  The longer poems like “Eric and The Wolves” , “After The Storm” and the “Saga of Harald Hardrada” fall into this category.

The book is available on Amazon, and I hope to make an album with James Covell.

Take a look on Amazon:https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08HP6VVQ9?ref_=pe_3052080_397514860 

Here is the cover title:

A Shell In My Pocket

I went down to the sea today

To the ceaseless sea and the sand,

Where waves churned out across the shore

And its breath poured out on the land.

My mind was filled with the thrill of the call

Of memories endless rhyme,

And all I need is the song on the air

And a shell in my pocket and time.

The sound of each wave pouring in

As the last wave whispers away,

Produces the music on the air

An unending sibilant sway,

And the smell and the sound and the sight of the sea

Stretching out to the edge of the sky,

And its breath on my skin is all I need

As time goes silently by.

The shell in my pocket reminds me when

I stooped on the shore and the sand,

Of a time gone by like an ebbing tide

When I plucked it up with my hand,

And the sun in the sky when its arc was high

Before tumbling down to the west,

And the hours that have flown like the life I’ve known

When the shell in my pocket is pressed.

The Names of the Days

 Sue Hooper Lawrie and I have been busy, and here is our new collaboration. Available on Amazon our book about how the names for the weekdays got the names we call them is out for you to enjoy. Take a look and if you like what you se please go to the link and write us a nice review, please!
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1511593970?ref_=pe_3052080_397514860

The drawings are delightful and have a memorable quality which will help us to recall the story behind each name. The sorrowful Friyja seen here gives her name to Friday.

As do a number of Norse deities for Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. Only Saturday retains the original Latin name.

The Legend of The Giant Ngong

At last this story which was started when we were camping with our children in Yosemite has been completed, and with the help of Sue Hooper-Lawrie whose exquisite illustrations really bring the tale to life, the book is now available on Amazon.

Here is an East African tale in the traditional style which explains the appearance of Lake Victoria, the Rift Valley, and how the Ngong Hills were thrown up to contour the landscape when a giant fell to earth.

Just take a look at Sue's drawings

Making Professional Presentations

If you want to make more interesting PowerPoint presentations take a look at the video:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0V49VxSflCo

New Christmas Poetry

Of Christmas and the winter festivals it was Sir Walter Scott who famously wrote:

'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale;

A Christmas gambol oft would cheer

A poor man's heart through half the year.

It is as true today as it was then and in the olden times  which he described. There is no doubt that a good winter tale steals the attention and the hearts of its audience.  Every writer has to at some point envy the work of their preceding contemporaries and wish that a favorite winter story had flowed from the nib of their pen. Should they live and compose long enough they might eventually have a Christmas tale to their credit.

The story at the center of all these tales is the greatest ever told.  It is the fulfillment of the most complex prophecy, and we are all here because of it, and share in the celebration as Christians have world wide since Christ’s birth.

From Koru on the west facing slope of the Rift Valley in Kenya, to Oxford with its colleges in the center of England, to the United States with its cold northern lake side cities and on to California with its endless summer, and far off in Australia where the seasons are reversed, Christmas is kept and stories are told. From all of them inspiration has been gathered to fill out these pages and help us to see the reason for the poems.

Available on Amazon here is my latest collection ready for the coming winter season!

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1981471855/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1528662227&sr=1-2&refinements=p_27%3ANeil+Stewart+McLeod

An Editor's Corner

For two years, from 2015 - 2017, I have had the privilege of serving as “editor” of  Explorer, the newsletter for the Los Angeles Dental Society. I put the word editor it in quotation marks because the real work of overseeing the production and conning through the content fell on the shoulders of Teresa Chien, the Executive Director, and her staff.  My task was to come up with something interesting and pithy that was topical that might catch the reader’s attention, and try to do as good a job as my predecessors like Dr. Kenneth Jacobs.  Running through these short articles is an appeal to our profession to keep up to date and yet exercise caution as we do so.  We have an amazing history being responsible for the introduction of fine miniaturized drills, anesthesia implantology and exquisite ceramic prosthetic replacements. Here then are the eleven articles that were published as the Editor’s Corner.  The opportunity to expand content and add a poem was irresistible.

This book is available on Amazon: 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1720369291/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1528578728&sr=1-1&refinements=p_27%3ANeil+Stewart+McLeod 

Should you get a chance to read it please write a review for me.

Thank you!

Upon Reflection now in print

The selected poems has now gone to press.  It has taken twenty readers twenty months to get the project completed and we are pleased with the result.  There is a budget edition out for $15 which can't be beaten.  Should you have the chance to read it please write a review on Amazon :https://www.amazon.com/Upon-Reflection-Selected-Stewart-McLeod/dp/1984392859/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1517547136&sr=1-1&refinements=p_27%3ANeil+Stewart+McLeod

This book contains all the favorite classics, The First Thanksgiving, The Wristwatch... , The Silver Box and Come Uppance.   Get a copy for yourself and write a review on line.

My new book "Nearly Jewish" is out today on Amazon:

I don’t know who said it, but you can go to the four corners of the earth and you will find four things, fleas, cockroaches Jews and Scotsman, and they are running everything.  In today’s emancipated society such a characterization might be considered and exaggeration, and politically if not factually incorrect.  But it is funny, and I, a Scott, surely have been blessed to meet wonderful Jewish people where ever I have been, particularly in London and Los Angeles. They have influenced my life and guided and supported me, and I love them.

Talk with Jewish people for long enough and they will fill your ears with stories, with sorrows and with humor. I have been writing down stories for a long time now, and dotting the pages are references to that influence.  It could not be helped.  Now it is time to acknowledge how strong that effect has been.  So here with out apology for my Goyisha ignorance and errors are my Jewish poems. Oy vey!

With an introduction by Dr. William Varner this is  good quick read  for Jew and gentile alike. He wrote:

 "I hope and pray also that this little treasure will find its way into the hands of many Gentiles, who will gain a new appreciation of “Yiddishkeit” that wonderful Yiddish word that means something like “Jewishness.” I count it a privilege to commend it to readers of all religious persuasions. Be prepared to laugh and to cry – and to come away enriched."

I hope you will take his advice and have a look.

The Last Post

For two years and ten editions I have had the privilege to write the commenting editor's corner for the Los Angeles Dental Society newsletter the "Explorer". It has been a lot of fun!  Now I am moving into the Web presence and marketing side of the Dental Society's administration.

Spots were written about the significance of the dental profession, caution in embracing new technology, how important it is to keep up to date yet being aware of marketing pressures, and reviewing the digital changes that are affecting dentistry.  When new technical advice revealed that we should not brush immediately after meals, an exposé was made, and when public broad casters drew into question the value of flossing a condemnation was launched criticizing their foolishness. The importance of oral health in maintaining a healthy brain and heart rounded out the physiology, and a final slam was made against the sadness of consumer demands causing favorite treatment adjuncts to disappear from the market-place, and simply no longer be available. That "End of An Era" is copied below.

“Sorry we don’t carry that any more!”  said our representative at Patterson Dental. That was the answer that really got my attention.  Suddenly I was rummaging around in the jumble of files which so untidily fill up my mind remembering Tempak, the best temporary filling material ever, and the daisy cup for Vacu Rinse which replaced my cuspidor in 1976. “We don’t have hydrocolloid impression material any more, we can’t get it.”  What they meant was, “nobody orders that any more Doctor McLeod, you are an old dinosaur!”  I called Dux and was informed that they had four boxes of heavy bodied tubes and a few hundred cartriloids left, and would I like them. After that it would be over.

Hydrocolloid impression material has been the gold standard for restorative dentistry since Morris Thompson consolidated the technique in the 1950's. By 1974 when I entered USC dental school it was the material of choice for anyone wanting to get really accurate impressions for fine restorations, particularly in gold. Subsequently we as a profession embraced rubber-base and then the new poly vinyl siloxane materials which moved forward in preeminence and slowly superceded the use of hydrocolloid by all but a small cadre of enthusiasts.  Now the demand for the seaweed agar is so small that it is being dropped from the catalogues.

Overshadowing all of this is the pressure to use digital light impression technology. Even the bite registration can now be indexed using an algorithm that manipulates the data from the light impression files. Today nearly every porcelain or zirconium crown has a base that is carved by a CADCAM system which means that even if you are taking a physical impression it is at least one step removed from the original. So we are actually being forced to change yet again.  This discontinuation of agar comes hand in hand with the introduction of optical impressions. One might compare this with the introduction of digital photography and x-ray imaging.  How many of us now still use photographic emulsion for pictures or x-rays?  The answer will be the same about impression materials all too soon.  My question is are we exchanging quality for convenience?

For answers to these and other conundrums remember we are here for you at the Los Angeles Dental Society.

Wedding Poem

Do you recall my darling
  before my hair turned grey,
We each made a promise
  to honor and obey.
You with stephanotis
  for your bride’s bouquet,
I am thinking of that now -
  our son is married today.

We asked God together
 for blessing and for grace,
Left the church and climbed the hill
 to reach this very place.
With gathered friends and family
 we shared a fine soiree -
I am thinking of that as
 our son is married today.

The years have come and gone so fast
 the children came and grew,
Each in their turn will forge a path
 to make a life that’s new.
Amazed we gaze contented
 So what is there left to say
But thank God for His blessings as
 our son is married today.

There I see the family of
 my son’s bonnie bride
Who’ve traveled far to be with us
 and stand there by her side.
Here we are bound for ever
 in harmony we pray
United by our children
 who are married here today.

And you our guests who witness
 their nuptial array
We thank you all for being here
 and ask you to portray
In unison your fond support
 together as we pray
That we will long remember
 for our son is married today.

For Roddy and Bilyana who were married on May 27th 2017

Another Cuppa - New Poems

My eleventh book of original poetry just written has gone to press and it available from Amazon.  The introduction was written by our pastor and friend John MacArthur.  and the volume contains the Christmas poem "Roi's Tale" which is the traditional story from the shepherd's perspective, and also "Happy In America", "Winter Coming On", "Spinario" and "The View" , so it will make a nice Christmas gift.  I hope you will enjoy this latest effort and comment on it so others my hear of it.