Hey, Six Eyes!

There's a lot of things I like to write about on this blog – stupid news, stupid people, and stupid fashions. Like this instant classic, coming soon to a Wal-Mart near you:

("Excuse me, madam - you have a Skittle stuck to your forehead...")

But above all else, my number one topic to talk about, and the whole reason that this damn blog was born in the first place, was to whine about one thing: My Getting Old.

I started this blog shortly before my 40th birthday, and 3+ years later, here we are. Older, greyer, and hopefully a little wiser. I'm now a grandfather, which is actually pretty cool, and I haven't yet had to trade in my convertible for a Buick, so that's good.

But now I need to whine about the latest step over the hill I've taken – one I knew was coming, but one I'd rather not take.

You see, The Lovely Mrs. G. and I went to the eye doctor the other day for our annual exams, and it turns out that I need…

BIFOCALS.

Ugh. The Old Grey Gressel – he ain't what he used to be.

Truth be told, I've probably needed to have bifocals for a couple of years. I've found that reading small print – newspapers, menus, my Get Fuzzy desktop calendar – is much, much easier if I take my glasses off. (Although it doesn't help if everything beyond 5 feet away is one big blur at the time.)

I got in the habit of looking over my glasses at print, which I've gotta tell you – isn't exactly that "sexy librarian watching you over her glasses" image that you might be imagining about now. (So knock it off.) Nope, it was more of a "Geez, there's Gressel aging right in front of us" kind of pose.

The eye doc in Sioux City told me a year ago that I was "inches" away from needing bifocals, so it shouldn't have come as a shock, but last week to actually hear it come out of the eye doc's mouth – "Sorry, Tom – welcome to middle age" really did sting. Why doesn't he just go ahead and set me up with a walker and a 3:00 PM dinner reservation at Country Kitchen Buffet while he's at it?

I suppose it's inevitable, though. Bifocals are just a part of growing old. And although it did cost me another $70 out of pocket, I did spring for the ones without the line in them. You see, us old geezers can afford luxuries like that, when we're not blowing our retirement savings on Geritol and Lawrence Welk albums.

So my new glasses are on order, and should be here in a week to 10 days. I'll then need a couple of weeks to adjust to the double-vision. Hopefully I won't crash into any walls or bingo parlors while I'm getting used to them.

Oh, sure. Laugh if you must – snicker as you please. But just keep in mind that YOUR TURN IS COMING one day. And while I may be looking through bifocals from now on, at least I still have a full head of hair. So neener, neener. (And yes – it's mostly gray, but so what?)

Anyway, I'd love to stick around and whine some more about my advanced age, but it's time to go put on my cardigan and chase the neighbor kids off my lawn.

See you at Country Kitchen Buffet – dinner starts at 3:00. Don't be late, or you may not get any fruit cup.