It's that time again: Glasses time.
I've been be speckled since about the fourth grade, when my squinting and close-to-the-board-sitting didn't cut it.
"Well, Greg, I believe you have what we Doctors of Optometry - and generally really smart doctory folks - refer to as an 'astigmatism,' which means blah-blah-blah-double-blah. So obviously, son, you're sort of blind!"
I didn't ask or argue about the curious/confusing English/grammar deal with the "a-stigmatism," or whether I had a "stigmatism."
I did a little research and found that it was pretty common, and the answer was to wear glasses forever. Amen.
Back in the late 70s, fashion choices for eye ware frames were about as wide as your choices for diet soda: Fresca or Squirt.
All of the options for guys were similar to Ed McMahons, Henry Kissinger's or Oscar Goldman (of $6-million man fame.)
(Sidebar: I believe my father, Kent, still has a running offer to personally buy new frames for Mr. Kissinger. I'll send you his address, Hank. Just drop me a note.)
So I was stuck with either Regulation US Army "Birth Control" frames, glow-in-the- dark-tortoise or wiry death traps.
Over the years, I was pretty split on the wire-vs. tortoise.
As it turns out, my eyes are aging, Benjamin Button-esque, in reverse. I can see OK at "reading distance," arms length, and my distance vision is still bad. But I can see up close better than ever! It's like I have a built-in jeweler's loop (cool word, never able to use it before!)
Anyway, time to deal with the present: Lense quality.
My great nemeses over the years on my specs are scratches, fogging and fingerprints.
And now price.
Yes, I could buy new glasses, or pay my mortgage. Or take a four-day junket to New Orleans, or put a tranny in my disabled Ford truck, or buy a cheap video camera, cheaper computer and just film and look at everything I pass.
Glasses have fought the whole "deflation" thing more than anything. Even the "budget places" have gone sky high.
There's a future career choice for our children: Optometry and vision! People are always going to go blind, and we'll always have fashionistas telling us how dumb our old choices were!
It's a no-brainer!
Of course, I think I now know why Mr. Kissinger keeps his frames.
###
I've been be speckled since about the fourth grade, when my squinting and close-to-the-board-sitting didn't cut it.
"Well, Greg, I believe you have what we Doctors of Optometry - and generally really smart doctory folks - refer to as an 'astigmatism,' which means blah-blah-blah-double-blah. So obviously, son, you're sort of blind!"
I didn't ask or argue about the curious/confusing English/grammar deal with the "a-stigmatism," or whether I had a "stigmatism."
I did a little research and found that it was pretty common, and the answer was to wear glasses forever. Amen.
Back in the late 70s, fashion choices for eye ware frames were about as wide as your choices for diet soda: Fresca or Squirt.
All of the options for guys were similar to Ed McMahons, Henry Kissinger's or Oscar Goldman (of $6-million man fame.)
(Sidebar: I believe my father, Kent, still has a running offer to personally buy new frames for Mr. Kissinger. I'll send you his address, Hank. Just drop me a note.)
So I was stuck with either Regulation US Army "Birth Control" frames, glow-in-the- dark-tortoise or wiry death traps.
Over the years, I was pretty split on the wire-vs. tortoise.
But who cared about fashion, I could see, baby!
I remember riding in the passenger seat of my family's Olds wagon, marveling at the scenery on the 10-mile ride home.
You mean people can SEE the license plates of other cars? See the Moon during the day? Actually spot stars without a telescope? You can read street signs, BEFORE YOU PASS THEM?
I remember riding in the passenger seat of my family's Olds wagon, marveling at the scenery on the 10-mile ride home.
You mean people can SEE the license plates of other cars? See the Moon during the day? Actually spot stars without a telescope? You can read street signs, BEFORE YOU PASS THEM?
Oh my God, look at Farrah's nipples!
Yes, it was an awakening in many ways. The gift of sight was more than I expected.
Now I've had a semi-annual ritual of an eye exam - more on that in a moment - and a decision on whether to buy new glasses.
Photos of my stylin' tortoise shell Mary Tyler Moore frames of not so long ago prove I needed to do that much more often in the past.
While friends want to take me from the dark ages of lenses and into the twentieth century of "contacts" - let alone the 21st Century of Lazik-style operations - I'm a bit Old School on my eyes.
I'm leaning toward the "transitions" lenses, which go from dark to light, and vice versa. Kind of like Michael Jackson, only without the molestation or confusion about marrying Lisa Marie.
Now I've had a semi-annual ritual of an eye exam - more on that in a moment - and a decision on whether to buy new glasses.
Photos of my stylin' tortoise shell Mary Tyler Moore frames of not so long ago prove I needed to do that much more often in the past.
While friends want to take me from the dark ages of lenses and into the twentieth century of "contacts" - let alone the 21st Century of Lazik-style operations - I'm a bit Old School on my eyes.
I'm leaning toward the "transitions" lenses, which go from dark to light, and vice versa. Kind of like Michael Jackson, only without the molestation or confusion about marrying Lisa Marie.
I had a "sweet" pair of purplish sunglasses that my lovely daughter, Camille, disposed of in the waters of a Minnesota lake as a toddler. That was at dusk, I should add, With no one else to pilot the boat.
I'm lucky to have ever found the right dock!
I'm lucky to have ever found the right dock!
As it turns out, my eyes are aging, Benjamin Button-esque, in reverse. I can see OK at "reading distance," arms length, and my distance vision is still bad. But I can see up close better than ever! It's like I have a built-in jeweler's loop (cool word, never able to use it before!)
I will have my bi-focals adjusted, and in reality, I take my glasses off now more than ever to read.
My eye test also revealed something inevitable for humans, but a real indicator of time passages: I have the beginnings of cataracts in both eyes. Quite early, according to my new Doc.
"Just so your not surprised in ten, fifteen years, when someone says you need surgery," he said.
Argh! Eye SURGERY! I can't even put Visine in without freaking out, let alone contacts. How am I gonna deal with a scalpel?
"Just so your not surprised in ten, fifteen years, when someone says you need surgery," he said.
Argh! Eye SURGERY! I can't even put Visine in without freaking out, let alone contacts. How am I gonna deal with a scalpel?
Anyway, time to deal with the present: Lense quality.
My great nemeses over the years on my specs are scratches, fogging and fingerprints.
And now price.
Yes, I could buy new glasses, or pay my mortgage. Or take a four-day junket to New Orleans, or put a tranny in my disabled Ford truck, or buy a cheap video camera, cheaper computer and just film and look at everything I pass.
Glasses have fought the whole "deflation" thing more than anything. Even the "budget places" have gone sky high.
There's a future career choice for our children: Optometry and vision! People are always going to go blind, and we'll always have fashionistas telling us how dumb our old choices were!
It's a no-brainer!
Of course, I think I now know why Mr. Kissinger keeps his frames.
###
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