As sometimes occurs with men of a certain age, we take our hard-earned money and purchase stuff. Sometimes it’s stuff we really don’t need. Sometimes it’s said we’re experiencing a midlife crisis when we purchase this stuff. Some examples of this stuff include little fast cars, fancy electronics, or genetically engineered hairpieces.
Dear friends, I too have succumb to the lure of male midlife stuff acquisition. No, despite my ramblings last week, I haven’t gone out and purchased a Miata or some such vehicle.
This week, I am pleased to report that I am the proud owner of a pair of sweet multifocal contact lenses!
I can now read documents without having to stretch my arms out like Reed Richards. Even more important and sadly an even bigger nod to unchained vanity, these fancy silicone hydrogel babies allow me to throw away my ubiquitous librarian-like (and not hot librarian either) reading glasses.
I’m hardy new to contact lenses. In a classic example of getting what you pay for, I got my first pair in ’83 – a pair of cut-rate excruciating hard lenses that I bought with squirreled away funds, saved up from my work study checks. They were brutal! You know that feeling you have when you get sand in your swim trunks? Imagine that feeling in your eyes! Fortunately that summer, thanks to a gig that paid better than work study, I upgraded to a more comfortable pair of soft lenses and life was 20-20.
Until six years ago.
Around 2006, I noticed that I was having trouble seeing things up close (even when wine wasn’t in the equation). I thought there was a problem with my lenses. No such luck. It was more a problem with my advancing age! Enter the reading glasses! I’ve always thought it was nature’s joke to require folks of my vintage – who are already wearing contact lenses – to also require reading glasses.
I am fortunate to have an eye-care professional who’s well versed on the latest ophthalmological bells and whistle. You can only imagine how I screamed like a woman on a date with Chris Brown (take that how you will) when my doctor told me that multi-focal lenses were finally available in my funky astigmatic prescription.
Not to go all Bausch and Lomb on you, but I’m told the way these things work is that there is a distance lens in one eye and a close up lens in the other. Yeah, it sounds crazy, but it works. So much so that I find myself pretending I’m Lee Majors on the Six Million Dollar Man – confidently raising an eyebrow and looking bionically into the distance.
Well, now that my first midlife crisis acquisition in the books, I wonder what I’ll get next?