Martha's comment about the presbyoterian church struck a nerve. But, no, this isn't a religious thread. Those of you in your mid-40s know what I'm talkin' about.
Born with a "wandering eye" and a bit nearsighted, I got my first pair of glasses when I was three years old. Since then I was that guy who looked like Buddy Holly (later like Roy Orbison) in everyone's yearbooks wearing a half-pound of plastic or metal on his face. The high point in my high school was the lenses that used to change from clear to dark in sunlight. (Which is the basis for a separate rant about sucky high school life, but I regress digress.) The lighter scratch-resistant plastic lenses of the late '70s were a breakthrough for sore noses & acne scars.
In the Navy I was told that I couldn't join the submarine force because of my glasses. Appeals to logic-- the periscope has an adjustable focus and submariners have special glasses to fit the eyecup-- were no use. Fortunately the Navy optometrists neglected to change the letters on the eye chart and I'd developed an exceptional short-term memory. My sudden dramatic improvement must have seemed miraculous but it saved me from a lifetime sentence to an aircraft carrier's nuclear plant.
Glasses had a few practical applications. I used to carry two or three pair around and leave one set on my work desk. It's better than a steaming cup of coffee-- the boss would see them and figure that I must still be hard at it, hours after I'd already gone home. On the other hand there are some things that really should be strapped tightly to your face when you enter a sanitary tank.
The real miracle occurred in my mid-30s when my eyes began to go long. At first I noticed that I didn't need glasses to see some displays on the submarine conn. Then I realized that I could read letters and some books without them. Within another year I was reading newspaper classified ads & engineering logs completely naked. There were times when I'd cackle with glee! But after three decades of lensed bondage, I had no idea what my apparent emancipation was setting me up for.
I naïvely thought that I'd be glasses-free for the rest of my life, but many of you already know how this story turns out. At first my computer monitor was out of focus. Then I was having trouble seeing the contrast between light & dark on the printed page. Next my arms got too short. When I kept turning things toward the light and laying them on the ground to read them, my father-in-law took me aside and sympathetically informed me that it was time.
It's been tough on the family too. My kid kept trying to show me papers by thrusting them in my face, only to have her hands knocked aside by a swift reflex outside block. My spouse thought the whole thing was funny because she's worn contact lenses for decades. (I'll have the last laugh-- she's starting to turn her book pages toward the light already.) Everyone has learned to pause after saying "Hey, look at this!" to allow me to fumble my glasses onto my nose.
I thought I'd be enslaved by a new prescription, but it turns out that presbyopia is a multi-year process. Your eyes gradually lengthen out to 1.75-2.50 diopters, not necessarily in both eyes, not necessarily at the same time or at the same pace, and not necessarily the same for everyone. So I started shopping at a whole new section of the store that formerly existed only for old fogies-- the reading glasses aisle. I've accumulated a variety of $12 pairs between 1.75 (working around the house, reading the computer screen) to 2.00 (in my recliner with a book). I especially like the half-lenses that allow me to look down to read and look up to catch Candice Olson on HGTV without having to miss a single refocusing second. It's hard to sit up in bed and get the glasses on your nose just right to read a book in your lap, but luckily I've diverted my attention to other bedtime distractions that don't require such visual acuity.
One unexpected advantage of presbyopia is better tae kwon do sparring. It's extremely easy to look at an opponent in gestalt without focusing on any particular part-- because I can't. I don't flinch when a head shot comes my way, either, since it's just a big blur. My avoidance reflex has become very fast and I can block a punch without effort or snatch mosquitoes out of the air in front of my nose. The reading glasses have also been a handy face shield when I'm fixing plumbing under the sink.
But it's still a process. My eyes just passed the point where I can focus on my dinner plate, and I'm beginning to think that I'll need to try a pair of those sexy 2.25s next time I'm at the store. I'm starting to look for prescription safety glasses for yardwork and prescription snorkel lenses. I refuse to wear bifocals or trifocals just to handle a tiny fraction of the total distance that my eyeballs can cover, but I don't want to think about what's going to happen when I have trouble focusing on the car's dashboard display.
It's such a demoralizing process that I've even considered LASIK or PRK. However there's no evidence that it stops (or even slows down) presbyopia, and for me the surgical risks far outweigh the putative awards. My only remaining hope is that if I someday develop cataracts, the lens replacement will make me a 20/20 reader in at least one eye again.
I've read somewhere that reading glasses are considered one of the most important inventions of the second millennium because they allowed us 40-somethings to keep our grip on our environment and our lifestyle. I remember being surprised at the emotional intensity of that essay, but now I completely understand. And I'm darn glad that I don't need reading glasses for surfing...
Thanks for listening. I hope you 30-somethings have learned more than I knew at your age. And for you 50-somethings, please tell me when it gets better!
Born with a "wandering eye" and a bit nearsighted, I got my first pair of glasses when I was three years old. Since then I was that guy who looked like Buddy Holly (later like Roy Orbison) in everyone's yearbooks wearing a half-pound of plastic or metal on his face. The high point in my high school was the lenses that used to change from clear to dark in sunlight. (Which is the basis for a separate rant about sucky high school life, but I regress digress.) The lighter scratch-resistant plastic lenses of the late '70s were a breakthrough for sore noses & acne scars.
In the Navy I was told that I couldn't join the submarine force because of my glasses. Appeals to logic-- the periscope has an adjustable focus and submariners have special glasses to fit the eyecup-- were no use. Fortunately the Navy optometrists neglected to change the letters on the eye chart and I'd developed an exceptional short-term memory. My sudden dramatic improvement must have seemed miraculous but it saved me from a lifetime sentence to an aircraft carrier's nuclear plant.
Glasses had a few practical applications. I used to carry two or three pair around and leave one set on my work desk. It's better than a steaming cup of coffee-- the boss would see them and figure that I must still be hard at it, hours after I'd already gone home. On the other hand there are some things that really should be strapped tightly to your face when you enter a sanitary tank.
The real miracle occurred in my mid-30s when my eyes began to go long. At first I noticed that I didn't need glasses to see some displays on the submarine conn. Then I realized that I could read letters and some books without them. Within another year I was reading newspaper classified ads & engineering logs completely naked. There were times when I'd cackle with glee! But after three decades of lensed bondage, I had no idea what my apparent emancipation was setting me up for.
I naïvely thought that I'd be glasses-free for the rest of my life, but many of you already know how this story turns out. At first my computer monitor was out of focus. Then I was having trouble seeing the contrast between light & dark on the printed page. Next my arms got too short. When I kept turning things toward the light and laying them on the ground to read them, my father-in-law took me aside and sympathetically informed me that it was time.
It's been tough on the family too. My kid kept trying to show me papers by thrusting them in my face, only to have her hands knocked aside by a swift reflex outside block. My spouse thought the whole thing was funny because she's worn contact lenses for decades. (I'll have the last laugh-- she's starting to turn her book pages toward the light already.) Everyone has learned to pause after saying "Hey, look at this!" to allow me to fumble my glasses onto my nose.
I thought I'd be enslaved by a new prescription, but it turns out that presbyopia is a multi-year process. Your eyes gradually lengthen out to 1.75-2.50 diopters, not necessarily in both eyes, not necessarily at the same time or at the same pace, and not necessarily the same for everyone. So I started shopping at a whole new section of the store that formerly existed only for old fogies-- the reading glasses aisle. I've accumulated a variety of $12 pairs between 1.75 (working around the house, reading the computer screen) to 2.00 (in my recliner with a book). I especially like the half-lenses that allow me to look down to read and look up to catch Candice Olson on HGTV without having to miss a single refocusing second. It's hard to sit up in bed and get the glasses on your nose just right to read a book in your lap, but luckily I've diverted my attention to other bedtime distractions that don't require such visual acuity.
One unexpected advantage of presbyopia is better tae kwon do sparring. It's extremely easy to look at an opponent in gestalt without focusing on any particular part-- because I can't. I don't flinch when a head shot comes my way, either, since it's just a big blur. My avoidance reflex has become very fast and I can block a punch without effort or snatch mosquitoes out of the air in front of my nose. The reading glasses have also been a handy face shield when I'm fixing plumbing under the sink.
But it's still a process. My eyes just passed the point where I can focus on my dinner plate, and I'm beginning to think that I'll need to try a pair of those sexy 2.25s next time I'm at the store. I'm starting to look for prescription safety glasses for yardwork and prescription snorkel lenses. I refuse to wear bifocals or trifocals just to handle a tiny fraction of the total distance that my eyeballs can cover, but I don't want to think about what's going to happen when I have trouble focusing on the car's dashboard display.
It's such a demoralizing process that I've even considered LASIK or PRK. However there's no evidence that it stops (or even slows down) presbyopia, and for me the surgical risks far outweigh the putative awards. My only remaining hope is that if I someday develop cataracts, the lens replacement will make me a 20/20 reader in at least one eye again.
I've read somewhere that reading glasses are considered one of the most important inventions of the second millennium because they allowed us 40-somethings to keep our grip on our environment and our lifestyle. I remember being surprised at the emotional intensity of that essay, but now I completely understand. And I'm darn glad that I don't need reading glasses for surfing...
Thanks for listening. I hope you 30-somethings have learned more than I knew at your age. And for you 50-somethings, please tell me when it gets better!
