The Mall Report

I think my current glasses are just like the ones I had in 7th or 8th grade.

I went to the mall today. Something I almost never do. Remember when there were Hari Krishna or maybe they were fake Hari Krishna (I forget which) soliciting at the airports? The mall is like that now. Hawkers stand in the middle of the walkways aggressively passing out samples for perfume or age-defying potions. Shoppers walk as close to the stores as possible, ignoring the shouts  and outstretched hands. Madame, you need this cream. Very special. You will like. Bla-bla-bla.

 I was there for an eye exam. Not an eye cream. I can't read the signs when I'm some place new. I can only read signs if I already know what they say. I began wondering if maybe we're evolving not to read. We listen instead to our smart phones giving us turn by turn directions, and sight is devolving into a secondary sense. Or I need new glasses. Which, it turns out, I do. And I have cataracts. Actually, I have the beginning of cataracts which is worse than full-blown cataracts because there's nothing to be done except wait until you have full-blown cataracts, at which time you can have them operated on.

Here's what having cataracts is like if you'd like to know. There's that shuffle of lenses part in the eye exam when the doctor is asking you when is better---one....or two? Two or three? Now, which of these is better, etc. You can choose the better choice, but it's still not good. The letters are sharper, except only as if seen through a dirty windshield. But I'm getting new glasses. They're fabulous. I'll look great, I just won't see great. But better.

And I have this fantasy that someday we might sit in a big exam chair with a device in front of us, discerning major life choices. Which is better, the doctor will ask us, choice one or choice two?