I can see clearly now

I can’t remember when it began, but I had been noticing that the knuckleheads at City Hall were using street signs that cannot be read until you are right on top of the intersection.

And homemade signs that advertised yard sales were mostly useless.

Then, proving only that I am marginally smarter than a frog in a pot of water that’s getting hotter and hotter, I realized that maybe it wasn’t the signs that were faulty.

Within the realm of possibility lies the fact that my eyes may not be equal to their youthful power.

But, but … but I had laser eye surgery just three years ago. They aren’t bionic, but they’re the next best thing. You would think that for $1,600, I would be able to see through the signs.

Oh, yes, funny story but true: The advertisement for laser eye surgery said that it would only cost $300 per eye. But, once you pay for a pre-op exam, an airline ticket to Vancouver and a room at a nearby hotel, you find out that it costs $300 per eye … only if your eyes are near perfect.

If the surgeon needs to spend an additional six seconds adjusting your eyes, the price jumps up an extra thousand bucks.

That works out to $600,000 an hour that this guy is earning. But I’m not complaining … no, no. This guy was about to point a laser at my eyes (the same kind that Captain Kirk uses to disintegrate sentient beings, from other planets, who he doesn’t have sex with). So, when he asked me if I had any questions, I only had three:

When was the last time you drank alcohol?

Did you get a good night’s sleep?

How’s your marriage?

Besides, the price was a really, really good deal … according to the sales lady who was wearing a lab coat. I’m not sure why she was wearing a lab coat since I never saw her carrying beakers or cutting nice people’s eyes open or anything.

I digress.

Back to last month and my faltering eyesight: so, I went to see my optometrist, who, bless his heart, did not laugh at me. He had just asked me to read the eye chart, refused to allow me to phone a friend or even a 50-50, and just said it was time for glasses.

Again with the glasses. I had eye laser surgery because I was sick and tired of having to clean them every darned month.

And what would happen if I was driving along the road and saw a house on fire? I would kick in the front door, step into the wall of flames and listen for the sound of crying children. But I wouldn’t be able to find them because my eyeglasses would have fogged up.

That’s why I had eye laser surgery: I did it for the children.

Now I have eyeglasses again and, I must say, it is like the difference between an art film and high-definition television. I can see textures on walls, dirt on windows, and Grey Mountain.

Did you know that sometimes people will walk across the street? I guess that explains why I would see brake lights before (had always wondered about that).

And street signs? Ha! I can see them from five houses away.

But I still can’t read those homemade signs that advertise yard sales. Yes, red is a noticeable colour. But c’mon, people, don’t use an orange Sharpie on it.

Did I just digress there again?

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