Toothless yet not hopeless, Chris Baugus tugged on his red ball cap and hesitantly opened his mouth at the urging of his dentist, Dr. Mitchell Goodis.

There, still bloodied and puffy from surgery, were the craters that used to be Baugus' teeth, 32 holes that only dentures can fill now – and those wouldn't be ready for another two weeks.

So these days, Baugus mostly keeps his lips pursed and his attitude positive. He'll have a gleaming smile, albeit artificial, in no time. Maybe then, he won't feel so self-conscious and socially ostracized. He will eat solid food again, feel whole again, regain the confidence that so many elderly folks say they lack after tooth loss.

But Chris Baugus is 34 years old.

Methamphetamine use stole his teeth, gave him the mouth of an elderly man and nearly ruined his life. Though Baugus is on the mend – clean for four years and back working for a Placer County fencing company – his teeth are another matter.

The damage is done, the consequences irreversible. Nineteen years of steady sucking on a crank pipe, of weeklong binges without sleep, of consuming mostly sugary soft drinks and avoiding a toothbrush, led him to Dr. Goodis' waiting room.

"Your head is clear," Baugus says, "and things are looking up. But you're still judged by your teeth. Losing them was an eye-opener. But I'm just grateful that someone's helping me."

That someone would be Goodis, a Diamond Springs dentist who never intended to be known throughout Northern California as the "meth mouth guy." But circumstances – namely the high methamphetamine use in his area – plunged him into that role.

Actually, he could have kept professional distance, could have declined to work on low-income Denti-Cal patients, as a number of practitioners do.

"I probably would have twice the income I have now if I did that," Goodis acknowledges.

But that would go against everything Goodis, 55, is about. He attended the well-respected Temple University Dental School in Philadelphia and worked for years as a Navy and Air Force dentist.

Goodis and his wife, Audrey, reared three daughters – two are social workers, one a doctor – to think of others and be of use to the community. And the same applies to him.

"Everyone looks at meth and goes 'tsk, tsk, tsk,' but I thought, 'I can do something about this,' " Goodis says. "This work I do dropped on me. A girl came into the office, and I thought, 'You are so attractive, so pleasant and outgoing.' Then, she opens her mouth and all her teeth have holes.

"I felt so bad. And it hit me: My kids are that age. I want to help young people before they get a (meth) problem."

Toward that end, Goodis came up with this crazy idea in 2003 of whipping out his video camera and documenting the damage in the mouth and psyche of the patient.

Once he accumulated enough examples – and it didn't take long, he laments – Goodis put together a stark, two-hour video showing the dental work, interspersed with interviews with patients and learning materials for educators, social workers and other dentists. (All patients signed release forms to have their names and faces used.)

With a $1,000 grant from the El Dorado County Drug and Alcohol Council and the Marshall Foundation, Goodis burned as many DVDs as he could and sent them to schools, rehabilitation centers, jails and juvenile halls – anywhere the gruesome sight of rotting teeth might prevent people from trying the drug.

Law enforcement officials say California produces 80 percent of the meth for the country, and a 2005 survey of the Central Valley found that 75 percent of arrests were linked to meth use.

Chuck Newport, education coordinator for El Dorado County's public health office, says early intervention is a must. People using methamphetamine, experts say, can get addicted quickly, some even after one use. And he jumped at the chance to work with Goodis.

"Some people would look at the DVD and go, 'Well, this is just scare tactics and worst-case scenarios,' " Newport says. "But I think it has a place. I've been working in human services for 30 years now, and whatever gets people to think about drug use helps."

Call The Bee's Sam McManis, (916) 321-1145.