A Sparkling Clean Start to the New Year

By Sean McVeigh

When I’m trying to come up with an idea for a column, it’s usually the big things that elbow their way to the forefront of my mind. Truth, justice, the American way — those are the places I immediately drift to for inspiration each week.

Other times, world events will pique my interest. Maybe I should say something about Venezuela or Mamdani this week. But then I remember that’s not why you come to this column. And even if I tried to work in a few jokes to lighten the mood, the mayor may not make some folks Mad(uro).

After hours of contemplating the meaning of life in search of a good topic, it’s usually the small things — the ones I find myself doing mindlessly while wrestling with these abstract concepts — that win the day. What I mean to say is that, in the end, it’s the little things in life.

This week, I had one such revelation. I got a new toothbrush for Christmas. Yes, you read that right: a toothbrush. I should explain.

My wife, although you may not know it at first glance, is not from Rockaway originally. She’s from Arizona. I’ve spent a good amount of time there, and over the years I’ve learned that in Arizona, everything is new. New buildings, new cars, new roads, new chain restaurants, and, apparently, new toothbrushes.

Here in New York, it feels like the only time you get something new is after a devastating hurricane or when it’s part of a government money-making scheme, like subway turnstiles or speed cameras.

Ever since my wife relocated from Arizona to New York, she has quietly found it odd that I use a regular, powerless, manual toothbrush. She, on the other hand, uses a fancy electric one.

Well, wouldn’t you know it, this year, in addition to some very lovely and thoughtful gifts, Santa decided it was time for me to have one of those fancy toothbrushes as well.

My first thought upon opening my new Oral-B iO was, “Wow, my breath must really stink.” I was quickly reassured that this was not the precipitating factor behind such a gift. (Although I’ve been much better about flossing ever since, just in case.)

What the heck, I decided, let’s give this thing a go.

Who could have imagined that switching the way you do something as simple as brushing your teeth could be so difficult? After one awkward attempt at taking my new tech for a test spin — an attempt that left my face, my shirt, and my mirror covered in minty foam — I immediately went to my resident electric toothbrush expert, armed with a list of questions longer than a CVS receipt.

The first thing I learned about my new electric toothbrush was that it has three speeds. I wonder if that’s something like how a manual toothbrush has different bristle hardnesses. I still haven’t decided which one I want to commit to, but I’m leaning, as usual, toward the middle.

I also noticed that every thirty seconds while brushing, the toothbrush pulses. My wife informed me that this happens over the course of two minutes because you’re supposed to divide your mouth into four quadrants and spend thirty seconds brushing each one. The toothbrush lets you know when it’s time to move on. How helpful.

Apparently, I have never brushed my teeth for two full minutes in my entire life. It felt like an eternity. (Maybe my breath really does stink.)

Brushing your teeth is something you’re so accustomed to that your brain usually shuts off while you’re doing it. Now, thanks to my new toothbrush, little things — things I’ve never thought about before — are suddenly becoming problems I need to solve.

For example, if I start in just one quadrant and spend thirty seconds there, as my new toothbrush overlord commands, I’m finding that the majority of the toothpaste is gone by the time I move on to the next. And I’m a big tongue brusher (have we hit the TMI limit in this column yet?), so when exactly am I supposed to work that into this new, very structured dance?

In retrospect, I was a very chaotic brusher in my Luddite days. There was no method to my madness once that brush was in my mouth, but I always felt that when I was done, my mouth was clean. I’ve been doing it the same way for thirty years, with only one cavity to my name (subtle brag), so is it really a good idea to switch things up now?

My wife has taught me a lot over the years. One of the most important lessons is that there are other ways to do things than the way we already know.

I may bust her chops incessantly about the little Arizona/Southwest quirks that are funny simply because they’re unfamiliar to me (“Erin” and “Aaron” are not pronounced the same, and what the heck is a “pizookie”?), but I also take note of them. They help remind me that while I love this little bubble we call home in the corner of Queens — and in my opinion, it’s the best bubble of all the bubbles floating around out there — it’s still just a bubble.

And there’s a whole world out there that does things differently, and thinks differently, than we do. Including how they brush their teeth, apparently.

Did I just tie one of those “big ideas” I was talking about to brushing my teeth? You’re darn right I did. Talk about starting 2026 off with a bang.