Progressive lenses: the funhouse you wear on your face!
This weekend Mulch Boy and I got our new eyeglasses, and I may be beginning to feel my age: I now have progressive lenses on my glasses. That's the modern equivalent of bifocals, for you old cranks like me.
It's a strange world here behind the new glasses. Sure, I can see far distances and close up and everything in between now. But the world has taken on the rubbery quality of a reflection in a fun house mirror. Turn my head and my desktop warps like a vision out of the Twilight Zone (the old TV show, not the vampire-related theme restaurant that I fear will eventually be created). Sometimes it's interesting, more often it's disconcerting, but I haven't fallen over yet. And like the Irish blessing granted, the road appears to be rising to meet me at all times.
Most important, I can now read all the tiny print! No more holding seed packets and medicine bottles at arm's length and squinting. Nope, from now on I'll be... looking down my nose to find the right focus.
It's a strange world here behind the new glasses. Sure, I can see far distances and close up and everything in between now. But the world has taken on the rubbery quality of a reflection in a fun house mirror. Turn my head and my desktop warps like a vision out of the Twilight Zone (the old TV show, not the vampire-related theme restaurant that I fear will eventually be created). Sometimes it's interesting, more often it's disconcerting, but I haven't fallen over yet. And like the Irish blessing granted, the road appears to be rising to meet me at all times.
Most important, I can now read all the tiny print! No more holding seed packets and medicine bottles at arm's length and squinting. Nope, from now on I'll be... looking down my nose to find the right focus.
Comments
Post a Comment