Jewish World Review / August 18, 1998 / 26 Menachem-Av, 5758
A dentist who causes a different sort of smile
IF THERE IS A "NATURAL" set of conditions which would lead one to the
ownership of a vintage ’65 lime green-and-yellow Cadillac hearse with a
giant plastic tooth on the roof, they would seem to have been fulfilled in
David A. Bresler’s life.
The car, bearing the vanity plate "CBUSTERS," can be seen in the driveway of
Bresler’s Fort Washington, Pennsylvania, home when it’s not out doing street
fairs, block parties and parades.
"It attracts quite a bit of attention," says Bresler, but then that’s the
way he wants it. The "Cavity Buster Mobile" is, after all, just one of the
unconventional arsenal of weapons in "Doc" Bresler’s personal campaign for
better pediatric dental care which also includes a puppet show, a web site,
videoes, a television show, the Smiles for Miles bus and a lot of public
speaking.
Bresler, 44, attended Temple Dental School and achieved board-certification
in pediatric dentistry in 1990. He is an associate professor in Temple’s
pediatric dentistry department and a National Spokesperson and Fellow of the
American Academy of Pediatric dentistry.
In private practice since 1982, Bresler has--through innovative marketing
and a lot of good management--built up his business to the point where he
now has two offices and over 100 employees, of which 22 are dentists.
Yet, because he is "Dedicated to raising a whole generation of children who
look forward to going to the dentist," what Bresler is most proud of about
his business is that it gives him the opportunity to touch and improve the
dental health of tens of thousands of Philadelphia-area children.
Obviously, that’s a lot more kids than even a dentist with 100 employees
could get to under normal circumstances. And, in fact, Bresler doesn’t want
to treat them all.
This is a man, after all, who hands out toothbrushes on Halloween. And kids
are excited to get them because they come from "Doctor Dave," the guy whose
family goes all out on holiday decorations to the point of having a hearse
(albeit lime green) parked out front.
Bresler just loves kids (not just his own three), loves dentistry, and loves
helping kids to help themselves by teaching them some fundamentals of oral
hygiene. That’s why his "Cavity Busters" program is more than just a
marketing concept, it’s a major public service effort which he underwrite to
the tune of $175,000 a year.
One segment of the campaign has even drawn citations from the Philadelphia
City Council and the State House of Representatives: The Cavity Buster’s
puppet show, an outgrowth of a strange bit of synchronicity in Bresler’s
life.
Bresler’s oldest son, Josh, is at Penn State. As a freshman he befriended
Yoni Schwartz, stepson to Mark Segal, a puppeteer. When Josh mentioned to
his father that his friend’s stepfather did puppet shows for another
pediatric dentist he then discovered that Bresler had already considered
acquiring that practice.
So Segal and Bresler came together in aid of dental health. As Segal says,
"It was bashert."
Segal studied acting at Boston University. He trod the boards for a time
before becoming disillusioned with the way in which business was taking over
the theatre. In reaction he took up puppetry.
Segal says that the dental hygiene show had been Segal Puppet Theatre’s
"bread and butter" for some 12 years, permitting him to indulge in what he
calls "My real passion:" Jewish puppet plays. Those shows, usually in
conjunction with accordionist Benjamin Laden, are a holiday entertainment
fixture at Delaware Valley synagogues.
However, Bresler brought a new and non-commercial tone to the dental show
which helped Segal to see it as an even more worthy venture. It also began
to take up most of Segal’s time with a schedule calling for an average of
three shows a day five days a week throughout the school year.
Segal waxes poetic about the manifold joys of working with Bresler while
also noting that "We are very different people."
Superficially, yes: Bresler is a clean-cut type while Segal sports a beard
and ponytail. Segal is fairly Orthodox, so Bresler has had to learn about
kashrus so that they could eat together. Things like that.
What makes the partnership work is that the men share the sort of goofy
humor that kids love, and want to improve children’s lives.
To make that happen Bresler says, "We go anywhere that we’re asked to go.
For free!"
So, Segal and dental educator and actress Lori Grosseibl visit schools and
daycare centers anywhere within a 60 mile radius of the city. Recent venues
have been as diverse as urban South Philly and suburban Jarrettown.
300 kids came to a recent show in the decaying neighborhood of Strawberry
Mansion and, Segal says, "The teachers loved it. They usually don’t get
this kind of thing in Strawberry Mansion”"
Bresler says that sending the show to places like that is important to him
because the information the show provides is more needed there than it is in
the relatively affluent areas near his offices.
Targeting two to seven year-olds, the show gets across some dental health
basics. "Puppets get across information that a teacher couldn’t," Bresler
notes.
For instance, a teacher might have trouble conveying that children shouldn’t
be afraid of their dentists. To get that across the show starts with a
cowardly dragon who needs reassurance that the kids in the audience are his
friends.
"It’s perfectly natural to the kids that he should be afraid of them,"
comments Bresler who sees the kids getting the analogy when the dragon is
told he doesn’t have to fear them any more than he fears his dentist.
Next, the show starts developing what Bresler calls a "mantra" of "If it’s
sticky and sweet, it’s a yukky treat." To get that across, Zebo, a puppet,
and Grosseibl check out what Zebo’s mom packed him for lunch. Pretzels get
the thumbs up while fruit leather fails the test.
At the end of each performance every child gets a bag containing a
toothbrush, a coloring book, dental emergency information for parents and a
refrigerator magnet. At about a dollar a piece some 35,000 will be
distributed at puppet shows alone over the next year.
And the kids eat it up. Fortunately, though, the puppet show is one treat
guaranteed to be good for their
By Naomi Geschwind
New JWR contributor Naomi Geschwind is a writer based in Philadelphia.