Bugger! I failed my eye-test. I can’t believe it. I studied so hard. I knew all the parts of the eye and I still failed. The eye-guy says that my close-up vision is still good, but, I can’t see distances for toffee. I told him he was dead wrong and he said, “Over here, Mr. Wood. That’s the coat rack.”
Okay, maybe he’s got a point.
I know why I flunked my eye-test. I get so nervous about it, because I don’t know if I’m answering correctly. The guy wheels up the giant Elton John glasses circa 1976 and squashes them into my face and asks me which blurry image do I like the best. Eventually, I can’t tell the difference between the blurry images and I can’t make up my mind which is best. The eye guy loses his temper and I feel like I’m Dustin Hoffman in Marathon Man, but Lawrence Olivier isn’t asking, “Is it safe?” The words that strike fear into me are, “Number one or number two? I just need to know a number, Simon. One or two? One or two? I can’t let you leave until you tell me. One or two?”
So I need glasses. It’s not a problem. I can deal. I am a little worried that my writer buddies are going to pick on me now that I have glasses. I can see some of the hardboiled guys yelling out, “Four eyes,” then stealing my glasses and beating me up. They’re hardboiled for a reason, y’know. The cozy people, being more subtle, will just write something mean on my back. They’re sneakier.
But to my advantage, I can do the dramatic glasses removal during book negotiations. I look disappointedly at the advance offered and slowly pull my glasses off and rub my eyes and sigh and say, “This is one time I wish I was seeing double (the dollar figure).” So glasses have their ups and downs.
But I’m going with glasses. No contacts for me. I can’t stand anything in my eyes. The eye-guy had a hard enough time getting the drops in my eyes. He had to hold me down and pull my lids back to get the stuff in. Oddly, I kept my mouth clamped shut. I don’t know why. I’m definitely not going with the eye surgery. I’d go on a bad laser day and get zapped, but my mother-in-law dissuaded me. She just had the surgery and said, “I saw my cornea peel off,” like it was a good thing. I don’t need to hear that, especially when I’m eating.
So I’ve been wearing glasses for about a week. It’s okay. I can see better. Things used to have that soft focus thing going on, like on Star Trek whenever James T Kirk set eyes on his woman of the week. Julie says I look very distinguished, but then she laughs and runs away. I’ve stopped complaining that we need a high definition TV because the picture is for crap. I did see an intruder in the house, but it was a false alarm. It was just Julie. I didn’t see that coming. Maybe I should have gotten glasses sooner.
Yours in sharp focus,
Simon Wood
PS: I’m to San Francisco to do a lunchtime signing at Stacey’s with Tim Maleeny and Mark Coggins. Then tomorrow, I’m off to Seattle to do signings up there. Check my website for when and where.
LOL, Simon, this is hilarious!
I’ve had glasses since 3rd grade – and I still hate the drops!
I’m the opposite – love contacts, hate glasses. But I’m afraid I’m goingto be going under the knife – bf has promised to quit smoking if I get Lasik.
Gulp…
I love men in glasses. So long as they aren’t namby-pamby, boring, outdated by a decade stuff. I trust you got something cool…
Egads, LASIK. Like I’d let someone cut open my eyeball? Sure thing. I’ll get right on that. Actually, everyone I know who’s done it loves it. I’m just a big chicken. ; )
I finally got my reward for getting published. I broke the ones I’m wearing in my author photo, and hated their replacement, I splurged on a pair of Danish ProDesigns last week. Ouch, but oh so cute!
Forget Lasik. I haven’t even admitted I need glasses ALL the time.
At the store yesterday, a man watched me squinting to see the total and said, “You need glasses, little lady.”
I turned and scowled at him and then realized he had to be at least 30 years older than I was.
Somehow, that made it worse.
Very funny, Simon. Welcome to the myopia crowd.
I remember telling my sister at the beach when we were young, “Just keep talking. I’ll follow the sound of your voice to the water.”
very very funny. I am SO glad I’m not the only one who can’t decide… one or two? This one or this one? I swear, both pictures looked exactly the same, so I just guess at what I think the doc wants me to say!
And Lasik? Forget it. Doc has to strap me in the chair for the drops. I dread the day I develop cataracts. Do they do cataract removal under general?
I’m glad to see I’m not the only one afraid of lasiks…
As someone who’s worn glasses since I was 8, and recently bought a HD television, do not be deterred. You still need one. The enhanced images, uh, help your eyes adapt to the new focal points in your glasses. Yeah, that’s it. New focal points. That’s the ticket.
I got glasses when I was seven. Contacts at thirteen. Lasik at 39. Getting Lasik was–seriously–the most frightening thing I’ve ever done. It still scares me to think of it, but I’m glad I did it when I did. I had two good years before I had to get little reading glasses to wear way down on my nose! (Which I’d always wanted–I’m such a dork.)
A cautionary tale: Do not go swimming with your glasses on as I did from the ages of seven to ten. Really. It might seem like a good idea to be able to avoid sharks, children playing Marco Polo etc, but just get Julie to lead you as Louise’s sister did for her. You would never be asked to play Marco Polo and people would laugh at you. (Told you I was a dork.)
I got glasses at the age of ten. I am convinced that anyone who would voluntarily want to become an eye doctor is a sadist. Drops? They’ve had to give them to me multiple times. I had a doctor give up on the air puff glaucoma test. I’m planning on becoming a nurse, I can’t even go near the little handheld things they use to look in the eye, mine start to water.
Contacts? Not a chance. Surgery? Why would a corpse need perfect vision-cause there is no way anyone is getting near my eye with a laser while I’m alive.
I just got new glasses this year. I’ve already started worrying about the next appointment.
Thanks a bunch, Simon and the rest of you feary trembleshakes – I have an eye exam this afternoon with a doctor I’ve not met before. Normally not a problem, but a colleague fell and broke many bones today, and now you lot – way too much anxiety in the air.
Don’t wear your glasses in the pool? I can’t find the bottom of the pool in the shallow end without mine! You haven’t lived until your snorkel mask is fitted with eyeglass frames attached by octopus suckers . . . umm, no, suction cups, that’s what they are. Suction cups. But they smell mollusc-ish.
One last thing – I was an acquaintance of Mrs. Benedict when she was a mere slip of a child, and speaking plainly, them as thought her a dork were them as needed their eyes checked (and then to be dorked in a manner most uncivil).
I’ve worn glasses since I was two, had eye surgery when I was five (was nearly legally blind). I was so thrilled to finally be able to wear contacts as an adult. I love contacts. I’d have the surgery if I could be knocked out for it. I don’t want to know what they’re doing, and since you have to stay awake for it, I suppose it’ll be contacts for a long time.
Simon, how sweet of you to get glasses so you’ll fit in with our shop crew, all of whom need glasses! You’re just too kind!
Let’s see, let me add to the litany. Glasses at 9, contacts at 16, back to glasses at 49. I have a hole in the vision in my left eye, so I’ll never be able to have Lasik, although I’d LOVE to wake up and be able to see clearly!
See you Saturday, Simon, and welcome!
See you saturday, Fran. I sold out at Stacey’s today, so I’m hoping the same for you. 🙂
simon