The exact year is a little hazy, very early elementary years for certain. It wasn't the first year my family lived in Ottawa, so at least grade 2. So then imagine small chubby cheeked grade 2 Joel, honest to and trusting of the adults around me. I'd just finished having my yearly doctors check up (the reason why I'm sure it was at least my 2nd grade as we moved to Ottawa mid grade 1 and I'm a sept baby). The doctor wanted to talk to my mom about something, so the nurse decided to give me an eye exam while I waited. She had me stand up with my back against the wall in the dimly lit waiting room, and had me look at the eye chart of various sized letters she had on the opposite wall over her desk. I have no honest recollection of what she looked like, but I always imagine her as some large grizzled menace of a woman who sneers at children and has a healthy past time of ruining their lives. She wanted to ruin mine. She points her knobby finger at the chart and says, "Tell me what words these are." Now 2nd grade Joel was a quick and perceptive thinker, but a litteral one. "Words,"I thought, "these are no words I know. They don't even follow any patterns or rules of the english language." I could have inferred letters instead of words, but I was too trusting and obedient. I could compose no answer for this troll of a woman. Yes, a troll, for that is what she was. She was the troll that blocked my path on the bridge to the green pastures of no glasses. No child wants glasses. Glasses make you different, glasses get you made fun of. I was neither cool nor uncool, but glasses could tip that scale. The thicker the glasses the further that scale tipped. The more I stared bewildered at the strange dialect of words scrawled upon the trolls riddle on the wall, the larger my fear grew, and with it the image of my imaginary glasses. Theseglasses were coke bottles of grotesque proportions, their size so immense that they crushed my windpipe so the only sound that would escape little grade 2 Joel's mouth was a small stammer of sound. Ffffp? L-Lp-Lped? Nothing made sense. Time stretches and twists for a child in terror, so I'm not sure how long it was before my mom came back. I'm sure the nurse grinned and hunched over with her fingertips tented as she approached my mother. "He's as blind as a mole with cataracts," she said, "he'll need thick thick glasses indeed. Mwa ha! Mwa ha ha ha ha haa...." There may not have actually been evil laughter. There were however tearfully blubbered words out of wet chubby 2nd grade cheeks to my mom on the drive home. "She said words! Not letters. They didn't spell anything. I don't need glasses! I can see! She said words!" My mom knew I didn't need them, and did her motherly best to consol me, letting me know she understood.
But about a year ago I was trying to focus a camera, and I couldn't. It didn't matter how much I tried, it was always just a little soft. And then I switched eyes, and it hit me. I needed glasses. But by now my view on glasses had changed. In fact, I was rather excited for the opportunity to have an excuse for an accessory.
3 pairs from Zenni optical arrived in my hand this weekend, and I began to wear them right away. I have yet to get fully used to them. I feel smaller, or bigger, I'm not entirely sure which. The perspective has been thrown out of whack. If things are this clear they must be closer, but it still feels further. And then I take them off and the slightest of fogs cloaks the world. It takes about 3 minutes for me to get used to unassisted vision. The one thing that instantly struck me when I first put them on was how detailed peoples eyes were. I couldn't get over it. It was like they had gone from an impressionist painting to stained glass with stark black lines of definition. Lauren told me excitedly that I should go look at blades of grass, but I don't think it would enthral me as much as peoples eyes did that first day. Perhaps everyone has their blade of grass/detailed eyes fixation when they get their first glasses. (added the day after) I'm sure these glasses have not ruined my life. I'm still cool, right?
I got a call this evening that the last of my pairs has arrived for pick up tomorrow.
So now I guess I have 8 eyes.
