Four-Eyes

I stopped by the optometrist's to get some more of the spray-on glasses cleaner I like.  It seems I've been using it on my laptop monitor a lot, because I'm nearly out.  While I was in there, I thought I'd see when it was time for my next eye exam.  My glasses are starting to get wiggly around the hinges, and sliding down my nose in a way they never have before.  Some things just don't hold up very well.

Or so I thought.

The reason I'm out of glasses cleaner is the same as the reason my frames are breaking down:  The cruel and indisputable passage of time.

"How long has it been since you were in?" asked the nice lady behind the desk.  "Oh, around a year?" I guessed.  I couldn't actually conjure any memory.  "Oh, here you are," she said, looking it up.  "No, it's actually been four." 

Four Years.  Since my eyes were checked.  Man, you write two lousy books and everything goes all to hell.  What else have I forgotten to do?  No wonder my glasses are falling apart.  They aren't poorly-made; they're eroding.  And I can't believe the little bottle of spray cleaner they gave me lasted that long!  Good thing it finally ran out or I would never have thought to go there in the first place.

The eye doctor turned out to be a knitter, so I knew I was in good hands.  She very kindly pronounced me only a little more blind than I used to be.  She wrote me a prescription and sent me on my way to pick out some swell new spectacles.

Being made to select new glasses is nothing more than a punishment for failing eyesight.  Much like the making of coffee in the morning, or the purchasing of one's first motorcycle, the choosing of glasses is only undertaken by those least qualified to do it.  And being in denial as I was about the need to even GET new eyewear, I didn't think to bring along a friend for help.  The best I could do was to take a few pictures.  Which I also couldn't see all that well.  Here's how it went:

Sarah Palin, but without the lipstick.

Elton John, but without the Grammy. Or the Knighthood, for that matter.

Keith Olbermann, but without the biting commentary.

Every woman in The Far Side cartoons.

Don't bother voting for your favorites, because I have no idea which ones I picked.  I got so frustrated I finally just shoved a pair toward the ordering lady and promised to come back when they're ready.  Can't tell you which ones they were because, like I may have mentioned, I can't SEE!

The good news is that once they arrive, for better or worse, my new glasses will only be an eyesore/delight to those around me.  Once they are on my face, I will neither observe, nor think about them.

I suppose eyewear, like everything else, is in the eye of the beholder.