"Men still make passes
At girls who wear glasses
But they have to have pretty good frames."
As a young person, that little ditty was recited in my presence with adolescent glee -- we all know jerks or guys that like to poke you with a stick. Like then, it doesn't phase me at all to speculate that glasses just might cause Mr. Right to think I was Miss Uh-No-Not-You. That fictionalized paramour is twisted, anyhow. I'm also fine with the fact that glasses might not be the most upscale, trendy accessory or bump my status up to fashion icon. Name one model with great glasses...go ahead...it's flawed logic.
For me, it was always pretty simple math: I couldn't see very well without them. True confession, I did occasionally take them off for some reason or another, but it was rare, for obvious reasons...like I didn't want to walk into traffic. In the hoarding box of photos I carry from house to house purchase, there's actually some studio pics of me without glasses. In fact, every single picture I purchased is still in the packet which tells you exactly how much I wanted to share that moment of vanity with the huddled masses.
Years fly by (okay, decades...) and now my attitude is a bit different. What started as a problem with eyes that won't work in harmony and extreme farsightedness just wasn't enough to please Valhalla's vision gods, so they added nearsightedness, macular degeneration (the good kind, if that's possible), awful depth perception, and, as my doc says, "the driest eyes I've ever seen." I've broken two ankles to prove I can't see a hole in the ground. The end result is that in 2019, there's no fashion accessory, jewelry, pair of shoes, undergarment, hairstyle, make up, or arm candy that can hold a candle to my loyalty and affection for my glasses -- and the darn things costs an arm and a leg.
Even though we have great insurance for eye care, these peepers are expensive to maintain. A difficult prescription, a tiny bridge on my nose that doesn't want to support specs, the weight of the lenses, the grooves I have in my uneven ears trying to get the darn things to allow me to stay lined up with the focal point...and no, I can't wear contacts unless I'm okay with being cross-eyed all day. Spoiler alert: I'm not.
If someone says "Zenni," I'll punch you. You've been warned. I'm all in for coddling my ocular orbs as much as possible because I truly cannot see without the specs. I've cycled through all the low cost, online vendors. Interesting fact: the cheapest I've ever been able to glean from those McGlasses' type folks is around $200. In light of my high regard for my glasses, I need a back up pair. For $200, that back up pair will lack all the wonderfully specific additions that make these coke-bottle-nose-killers bearable; the focal point will, in all likelihood, be way off and I'll be blessed with a terrible headache of unknown origin. Nice purchase, eh? [This is just my opinion on a subject I'm perpetually cranky about, Zenni legal team, and not an attack on your fine discount online ocular empire. Good for you.]
Do you know that if you just SAY you'll punch someone, that is assault? [This is just my rambling about age-related burdens, I'm talking to you attentive local law enforcement agencies, and this may even be a sign of early onset senility. Nothing to see here...move along.]
Opticians, beware. I have high expectations and it's born of my frustration of a lifetime of return trips for adjustments. The state should let me sign off on licenses for anyone who comes close to my eyes. I'll admit it, I'm a beast on this subject at this point of my life. Coincidentally, I've spent a lot of time working with kids who bump their heads into my glasses and thus necessitate endless trips to the optician to line 'em back up. Well played, short people.
The good news is I have a fantastic eye doc now, who is also an evangelist (I kid you not, swear to God), and does a bang-up job of updating both my prescription and my soul, even though I've told him a thousand times that we are on the same team already. It's the kind of thing I can't protest too much or clearly it will appear that I am, in fact, in league with the devil instead of just visually impaired. To that end, I'm a delightfully adaptable patient when his office asks me to change my appointment time to accommodate mission trips and revivals.
- If you are so focused (see what I did there?) on your peepers' needs that you're willing to blog about it...
- If you measure the amount of time you've worn glasses in decades...
- If you and your specs spend every waking hour together...
YOU MIGHT BE A GEEZER.
Celebrate that relationship with glass and plastic.
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