*Thank you, Barbara, for the line.
Bifocals, y’all. I have them. I am tripping over my feet and can’t figure out which way to tilt my head to read. The foresight to get reading glasses as well is recommended. Sewing is much easier when the entire lens is useful and not just a wee crescent at the base of the distance-seeing lens. Of course, I can’t see squat past the length of my legs in them, but since ballet dancing or skeet shooting isn’t done in readers, no big deal. Readers also gave me the opportunity to buy big thick tortoise-shell frames, which are fun in that “Lookit me, y’all! I’m a hipster!” kind of way. Plus they were only $20. I may get a couple more to keep by the bed and downstairs at the computer.
I have resisted bifocals for several years now. Vanity, maybe….ok. Vanity definitely. It’s silly, really, as vanity isn’t one of my strongest traits. Pride yes, but vanity, notsomuch. But somehow getting bifocals was an admission of something unwelcome. Even though I have never been sensitive to age stuff, somehow getting them was like a final step. I’m Old, by culturally accepted standards. Without bifocals, somehow being Old wasn’t quite happening yet. Even with salt-and-pepper hair, crows feet, and bingo wings I could pretend, somehow, that Old wasn’t quite happening yet.
No more. It’s here. All the symptoms are here. All of them. Heartburn caused by the most innocent foods, orthopedic shoes, multiple prescriptions on the automatic refill plan, a preference for 8:00 pm bedtime, and instrumental music recor…I mean…CDs. I mistrust microwave ovens, using them only to reheat coffee. Police and firemen look like 12 years olds, as do college students. Physicians (even specialists!) also look 12. In fact, anyone under 30 looks 12 and anyone under 12 qualifies for infancy.
The good part of it is that no one intimidates me anymore. Not doctors, professors, or corporate CEOs. If someone, anyone, no matter their education or vocabulary, says something sketchy I can look at them over the top of my bifocals and make them realize how foolish they sounded. Ask the boys, they will tell you the power of a good look over the top of glasses. Combine it with a subtle cock of an eyebrow and…who needs laws or guns? Maybe that’s what this country needs, a Granny Patrol with bifocals and eyebrows.