The Fifth Dentist

In an email to some folks today, I inadvertently found myself reciting from memory the back of the Crest toothpaste tube: "Crest has been shown to be an effective decay-preventive dentifrice when used in a conscientiously applied program of oral hygiene and regular professional care." (Don't ask me how I wove that little gem in.)

An extroverted child with no siblings to torment, I used to stand in front of the mirror and practice this speech, as if I were in a Crest commercial, and as if the people paying good money for prime-time advertising would think that was a good use of the precious seconds they'd bought. I imagined that this ability to recite something completely inane from memory, while smiling, would lead eventually to a career as a news anchor. Alack, here I am without such a career; no recollection of the concept of stoichiometrics, or the formula for calculating the area under a curve, but the memory of these exceedingly meaningless words persists.

As I typed this stupid sentence into an email today, it occurred to me: what happened to that fifth dentist?? Four out of five dentists surveyed indicated that Crest has been shown to be an effective... yada yada, but what did that fifth guy say? Was he unhappy with his modest stipend, paid to him in return for brushing his teeth once or twice with the concoction? What was the nature of this survey, anyway? How were the survey results aggregated? Were just five dentists surveyed? Was the sample statistically significant?

These are the questions that plague my mind now, ones that remind me that I'm grown up.