Friday, January 22, 2010



I feel I have worn glasses forever.
They are as much a part of me as grabbing my wallet, pocketknife, keys, and handkerchief.

But looking back at photos I’m surprised how long it took my parents to realize I could not see.
I remember having problems in school because I couldn’t see the blackboard.
Reading was a struggle so homework suffered.
I didn’t play sports because I couldn’t see the ball until it hit me in the face.
From the dates on the photos it looks like I was 12 when I started to wear the plastic frames.
Most of the time I didn’t have much selection or choice for a fashion look, so the brown thick frames divided my face.
Later in life, I had to buy my own vision and went through many changes.

Big frames, metal frames, shaded lenses, bi-focal lenses, and dark glasses I could see through changed my look through the years.
Being an artist, my eyes and my hands have been instruments of my career.

Years of televisions small grainy black and white screens took its toil on my sight, and then the computer came along with a noticeable drop in viewing details.
I’m sure I can blame age on some of this, but I must wear my specs every day. They are the first thing to put on every morning and the last thing to take off at night.

Being a four-eyes is what I am.

or as the Lovin' Spoonful said:
For eyes, what you gonna do now
Fore eyes, and how much do you see now
How many fingers, ha ha ha

When your kids that see through plastic
with a harness of elastic
So the girls all think you´re icky
And the boys all think you´re queer
Then the hinges all get rusty
And the seventh pair gets busted
So you graduate to tortoise
Shell that makes you look severe

When you´re so blind they call you Batman
You can´t even see a fat man
You can´t dig just where he´s at man
Without windows on your eyes
But the frames ain´t your decision
And they´re fitted with precision
And they magnify your eyes like they´re a pair of cherry pies

Here´s a word to all you parents
Give a break to little Clarence
When he says the blackboard´s fadin´
And the world´s a fuzzy place
Mister up in middle classes
And please recall that after all he
wears them on his face

1 comment:

Art said...

This one is fucking great. Written great. Starts in one place and ends in another... JUST GREAT!