Like nearly everything these days, it began with a recommendation from Oprah. The One Woman Marketing Machine does a show every year around Christmas in which she talks about the gifts she'll be giving. A complete and total buzzkill for her friends, I imagine, but a boon for those of us whose mothers are devoted members of The Church of Oprah (more commonly referred to as Our Lady of Perpetual Purchasing).

This year's offerings included something called Sonicare, the Sonic Toothbrush.

Now, we've all used electric toothbrushes before, but this is different. Like many dental instruments, it utilizes sonic waves. Scarier still, the brush moves 31,000 times per minute. Supposedly all of this means it can get to plaque and all that other nasty stuff in ways a regular toothbrush can't. Which means you may become much less familiar with the dreaded dentist's drill.

Alrighty then. I'm hip to dental hygiene so this sounded wonderful. And it is. It just took some getting used to.

Allow me to first point out the glaringly obvious. It is never smart to apply sticky blue goo (also known as toothpaste) to something that vibrates 31,000 times per minute and turn it on without first having it safely in your mouth.

Oh, you can try. Just be aware that your bathroom (and the front of that pristine white t-shirt) will later resemble the scene of a violent crime during which a Smurf fell victim to a mad slasher.

It took me two days to get all the blue spatters off the ceiling. The t-shirt is a lost cause.

Interesting factoid number two: the sound of the Sonicare closely resembles that of many battery-powered sex toys. This discovery quickly explained my boyfriend's recently odd habit of sprinting into the bathroom while I'm brushing my teeth.

Not that I would have any idea what battery-powered sex toys sound like, of course. I'm just telling you in case you do.

Now, if you can work around these little quirks, the Sonicare is actually a really cool little thing to have. After you push the button to activate it, you just move it slowly along your gumline and teeth until the Smartimer (no, I'm not making that up) shuts it off about two minutes later. Then you rinse it off and place it back in its handydandy little charger (it'll hold a charge for about two weeks even without it).

Sonicare's documentation says it removes up to 80% of stains caused by tobacco, coffee, and various other vices. As a caffeine- addicted smoker, this was music to my ears. And you know what? It seems to be true ... I've been fortunate in that my teeth are relatively stain-resistant (unlike my previously mentioned white t-shirt), but I noticed a difference after only a few uses.

Retailing at about $100 it's on the pricey side, but hey, if it's good enough for Oprah, it's good enough for you.

shauna@smug.com

in the junk drawer: