OK... So I have “old eyes.” Well, maybe not “old,” but older. I need glasses now. When I was younger, I had 20/10 vision, and nothing escaped me. Then, in my early 40’s, I needed them to read. Now, I’ve come to the inescapable conclusion that life is better with them on for distance, too, because I just can’t adapt to changes in focus so readily anymore. My lenses have dried out, and they don’t change shape like they used to--progressive lenses are a good thing. Really. Or so I keep telling myself.
It took me a few weeks to get used to the damn things, and I still ride without them. I ride better if I don’t see so clearly, because it keeps me from getting hung up in the details.
A few months ago, I went out to lunch with a group of lady friends, and only one of us had remembered our glasses (I was still in the vain, “I don’t have to wear glasses all the time” stage). We were at Sammie’s, where the lighting is low, and the print on the menus is small, and where the wait staff, I’m sure, get their daily amusement by watching the clientele pass glasses around the table from person to person as they try to make out the fine print, squinting, and holding the menu at arm’s length. It was a laughable scene. I made an appointment for glasses the next day.
Anyway, I’ve reached the point that I want prescription sunglasses, but I’m afraid to go and get them by myself because there’s a member of the fashion police living in my household, a.k.a. a teenaged daughter. Prescription glasses are no small investment, and I just KNOW that whatever I choose will be wrong. I’ll come home with them, only to be met at the door with, “Mom, tell me you aren’t going to wear THOSE...” But have you ever tried to coordinate schedules with a 16 year-old who has her driver’s license, lots of friends, and more places to go than you can shake a stick at? I think I’m going to have to threaten to turn off the gas card until she gives me a hand here...
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