There are many signs that I have aged over the last 10 to 20 years, including (but not limited to) a distinct lack of hair at the top of my head, a few varicose veins on my legs, and a general crankiness that I can only assume will get worse as time goes on.
But somehow, inexplicably to me, I have reached the age of 45 and have no trouble reading small print.
Many others my age – and my lovely wife is a member of this group – wear reading glasses and/or have to hold documents with tiny type at arm's length in order to have any shot at reading them.
Not me, though. At least not yet. I know it's coming, but for now I can still read even the hardest-to-decipher sections of the newspaper without the aid of optical enhancement.
(NOTE: That I still read a newspaper is, in fact, another sign that I'm not as young as I used to be.)
I had Lasik surgery 14 years ago this week, but as I understand it, it only affected my near-sightedness. The doc even told me that the procedure, which by the way has been everything it was cracked up to be and more, would not obviate the need for reading glasses.
(ANOTHER NOTE: I like the word "obviate." I could have gone with an easier word there, but I chose "obviate" because I'm just that kind of etymological rebel.)
So I'm waiting. The first time I have to break down and buy a pair of reading glasses, I will do it with some pride, knowing I held out as long as I possibly could. But until then, my youthful eyes and I will continue on our merry, unaugmented way.
It will come in handy when I have to read the small print on the contract I sign before I undergo laser surgery for these varicose veins.
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