A refractory error is something that just happens. Either because you're genetically prone to it or your eyes and face are mismatched. Size-wise. The end result of such anatomical aberration is glasses about 3 times larger than your face by the age of 10 and a whole day of walking into school after the holidays and being treated like the new boy by classmates of 5 years. And being labelled 'soda' for a while. I'm guess the pride, privilege and pleasure of being the only kid with spectacles in class for four years made me decide that glasses were the mark of a man. And occasionally women.
Then school got changed to another more intensely academic and that was when I found many people with either similar genetic propensity or mismatched anatomy who had glasses of such thick glass that would bounce if they fell. Which they often did due to gravity. Thence I decided that glasses were the mark of men (and women) who spent most of their childhood like Boo Radley, locked up away from the sun devouring all manner of literature.
This is of course a unidirectional relationship since Boo himself didn't wear glasses. Statistics are so cool to play around with. That man wrote a best selling freaky book just by playing around with them. He did have a point to make about Ted Kaczynski though.
That's not the point I'm trying to make. Then came days of basketball and trying to decide between shards of broken glass in and round one's eyes, or lenses so scratched that it was easier with them off and with them off and missing the subtle eyebrow movement that indicated that I was supposed to pass but not the person who's face I couldn't discern.
Contact lenses are so cool. Nearly invisible. Reasonably comfortable and for the first time in 10 years the world looks equally clear in all angles of vision. It's not bounded by a metal frame, it doesn't get blurry on the edges and when topped up with ray bans, the world is a dull shade of brown but sharp and well defined. The basketball is big orange and has Spalding written on it, the jersey's have veritas curat in fine print and passes are to the right person with never-before accuracy. In such happy times Azozel and and Lucifer confer, angered by the joy in the world. And one drunk night you fall asleep with them on. And wake up with them stuck to your eyes and it takes a bottle of contact lens solution to get them off. Or alternatively you get sprayed in the face by some artery that an inept surgeon nicked. No it doesn't have to be a life threatening nick of a major vessel, even the small bugger bleed like crazy. A 120mm of mercury can push a spray from a 2mm arteriole up to 2 feet. A lower limb amputation would involve working around the femoral which is close to a centimeter in diameter. A 1mm nick can send blood up to the operating lights. Just so you know.
So we're back to glasses now. Plain and simple that don't turn brown at 8pm in the inside of a well lit banquet hall, that don't bounce and can break but don't get scratched and when at the receiving end of a camera glare like there's no tomorrow.
So we went with our occasional benefactor and source of all joy and money, viz., the materfamilias to procure ourselves another pair to see Red Riding Hood better with... which reminds me I need to see a dentist soon. And she needed a pair too. But considering she's on the wrong side of fifty and presbyopia can be a pain she needs bifocals. Now bifocals on the elders (note not elderly) are a treat when you're a kid looking at their eyes as they're looking at you. A few degrees of movement on your part, which is a small sacrifice, changes their eyes from small and beady to Poe's Vulture-eye. Which is worth it.
So the lady in the shop does the usual read the fine print thing and gives us the prescription and the man points out the various frames and pitches the latest technology in bifocals to the mater. She falls for it hook, line and sinker. The man then produces the bill. Mom's lenses, not the frame, the lenses cost half my erstwhile stipend because they're progressive and will be ready in a day. My lenses which are, as mentioned earlier; clear, plain glass will take four days. Apparently like vegetarian food at Empire or Fanoos the chef/optician's forgotten how they're made and needs to look up some encyclopedia for that.
So here I am with the Model T of visual aids the world looking just as it did with the old pair.
If you have issues with what's written read the label for this post.
Then school got changed to another more intensely academic and that was when I found many people with either similar genetic propensity or mismatched anatomy who had glasses of such thick glass that would bounce if they fell. Which they often did due to gravity. Thence I decided that glasses were the mark of men (and women) who spent most of their childhood like Boo Radley, locked up away from the sun devouring all manner of literature.
This is of course a unidirectional relationship since Boo himself didn't wear glasses. Statistics are so cool to play around with. That man wrote a best selling freaky book just by playing around with them. He did have a point to make about Ted Kaczynski though.
That's not the point I'm trying to make. Then came days of basketball and trying to decide between shards of broken glass in and round one's eyes, or lenses so scratched that it was easier with them off and with them off and missing the subtle eyebrow movement that indicated that I was supposed to pass but not the person who's face I couldn't discern.
Contact lenses are so cool. Nearly invisible. Reasonably comfortable and for the first time in 10 years the world looks equally clear in all angles of vision. It's not bounded by a metal frame, it doesn't get blurry on the edges and when topped up with ray bans, the world is a dull shade of brown but sharp and well defined. The basketball is big orange and has Spalding written on it, the jersey's have veritas curat in fine print and passes are to the right person with never-before accuracy. In such happy times Azozel and and Lucifer confer, angered by the joy in the world. And one drunk night you fall asleep with them on. And wake up with them stuck to your eyes and it takes a bottle of contact lens solution to get them off. Or alternatively you get sprayed in the face by some artery that an inept surgeon nicked. No it doesn't have to be a life threatening nick of a major vessel, even the small bugger bleed like crazy. A 120mm of mercury can push a spray from a 2mm arteriole up to 2 feet. A lower limb amputation would involve working around the femoral which is close to a centimeter in diameter. A 1mm nick can send blood up to the operating lights. Just so you know.
So we're back to glasses now. Plain and simple that don't turn brown at 8pm in the inside of a well lit banquet hall, that don't bounce and can break but don't get scratched and when at the receiving end of a camera glare like there's no tomorrow.
So we went with our occasional benefactor and source of all joy and money, viz., the materfamilias to procure ourselves another pair to see Red Riding Hood better with... which reminds me I need to see a dentist soon. And she needed a pair too. But considering she's on the wrong side of fifty and presbyopia can be a pain she needs bifocals. Now bifocals on the elders (note not elderly) are a treat when you're a kid looking at their eyes as they're looking at you. A few degrees of movement on your part, which is a small sacrifice, changes their eyes from small and beady to Poe's Vulture-eye. Which is worth it.
So the lady in the shop does the usual read the fine print thing and gives us the prescription and the man points out the various frames and pitches the latest technology in bifocals to the mater. She falls for it hook, line and sinker. The man then produces the bill. Mom's lenses, not the frame, the lenses cost half my erstwhile stipend because they're progressive and will be ready in a day. My lenses which are, as mentioned earlier; clear, plain glass will take four days. Apparently like vegetarian food at Empire or Fanoos the chef/optician's forgotten how they're made and needs to look up some encyclopedia for that.
So here I am with the Model T of visual aids the world looking just as it did with the old pair.
If you have issues with what's written read the label for this post.
