By Jerry Zezima
As a man of vision, which has saved me from walking into walls, I can see clearly that my eyes aren’t what they used to be.
In fact, they used to be martini olives. Those were the days!
At any rate, I now need my wife’s glasses to read books, newspapers, emails, bills and even what I am writing, which would probably come out better if I couldn’t see it.
The only kind of glasses I have needed until now are wineglasses, which can make me a double-visionary.
I also have a pair of specs that can be used for distance if I am driving at night in the rain and can’t see road signs leading to important destinations like, for instance, my house. But I really don’t need them because on most nights, I am asleep in front of the TV, unable to stay awake for the 11 o’clock news to see if rain is in the forecast.
But I recently found, at the advanced age of 71, that I am farsighted, though not in the sense of showing foresight, because I can’t see into the future. If I could, I would have won Powerball by now.
Rather, I am farsighted in the sense that I can’t properly focus on things that are close to my eyes, such as words, objects or, in an extreme case, my nose, which I could see if I had access to the Hubble Space Telescope.
This may explain why my wife, Sue, who has what she estimates are “90 pairs of glasses” scattered around the house, is always telling me that whatever I am looking for in the refrigerator, a cabinet or a drawer, but can’t find, is right in front of my face.
What this doesn’t explain is why Sue is always asking me if I saw her glasses. It has led to the eternal optical conundrum: If you can’t find your glasses, wouldn’t you need your glasses to find them?
I found a pair of hers in my office and have been using them to work on the computer because without them, letters and numbers look like either a Volkswagen Beetle or the chemical symbol for krypton, which you’d think would give me X-ray vision.
But my eyes have been opened to the joy of using glasses for which I don’t need a prescription. I refer to “readers,” inexpensive glasses you can buy in a store not affiliated with an optometrist, whose prices might be so high that when the bill comes, you won’t believe your own eyes.
Sue’s readers have a diopter strength of 2.75 (to the best of my knowledge, which is scant on this subject, the highest in the typical range is 3.0).
According to Merriam-Webster, who has astigmatism, a diopter is “a unit of measurement of the refractive power of lenses equal to the reciprocal of the focal length in meters.”
I have no idea what that means and can’t read it without getting a headache.
Still, I thought it was a good idea to get a pair of my own glasses. So Sue and I went to CVS (Cheap Vision Service) and found a stand with readers that weren’t particularly flattering on me. Plus, they were tight.
“They’re for women,” Sue helpfully pointed out.
We went to the men’s section, where I selected a pair that fit well, look stylish and have a diopter strength of 2.75.
I opened the email on my phone and beheld letters, words and sentences I could actually read without squinting so hard that my eyelids fell off.
And the glasses cost only $26.99.
“That’s a lot better than what you would pay for a pair from the eye doctor,” Sue said. “And now you don’t have to use mine.”
“At last,” I said, “I see what you mean.”
Copyright 2025 by Jerry Zezima
Originally Published on http://jerryzezima.blogspot.com
