Friday, April 10, 2015
Sound and vision. Kinda important (and also a great song, but a weird video).
I've neglected my vision. My hearing is still good. I can hear a pin drop, a child upstairs shivering awake during a thunderstorm, his master's voice --- how cute is that dog? But I have resisted getting glasses.
I had such good vision, such 20-20 eagle-eyed vision for so long. Without binoculars, I picked out channel buoys for my sailing dad. I pitied my friends who came out of the surf on beach vacations and immediately scrambled in the sand mole-crablike for their specs, or my grandmother and her fashion eyeglass chains from which dangled many glasses -- separate ones for sewing, or "close work," as she called it.
"Dropping estrogen levels deform your eyeballs, making them less round, and more football shaped," my young gorgeous blonde eye doctor said, as if explaining everything about middle age like a far off country.
She could have been referring to my breasts. Indeed they are deflategate.
If I am to make it to eighty as the actuarial tables say I will, wearing glasses and complex padded push-up bras with thick straps -- may they be fabulous. May they be bedecked. Bedazzled. Purple. May they -- as Jenny Joseph has said, "make up for the sobriety of my youth."