14 August 2009
Bet you thought I'd talk about Health Care Reform, Didn't You?
Well, might not get what you wanted to happen, but you will certainly garner the attention of the entire world. Make sure that it's the kind of attention you want, that's my advice today.
And PS-the NHS is working just fine, thank you. You get what you pay for. Okay, NOW I'm really not going to talk about this any more.
I'm all about the anecdotes recently. Here are two that I found funny at the time, all related to the fact that recently I've had to start wearing my glasses again to use my computer sans migraine. Time for a trip to the eye doctor I guess.
First off is the fact that my purple glasses, the ones in the picture up there, are my Superman Frames. There are no logos or otherwise comic related features to them, nor can they provide xray vision or deflect bullets. That's okay though, because if I got shot in the eye I could just pop into an NHS clinic and bob's your teapot, I'm right as rain and don't pay a cent on the way out the door...oops, sorry, got carried away.
The reason these are my Superman glasses is that when I wear them people who have known me for YEARS (pre-glasses, that is) don't have a clue who I am. Seriously. Every time I put them on I think of the time two years ago when I was at a professional conference in San Francisco. Someone I'd known in interpreting for literally years walked right past me after looking me dead in the face. I called her name and she turned around and looked at me with that deer-in-headlights look that means "Oh dear LORD I don't remember this person but clearly she knows me and now what am I going to say and..." and I took my glasses off.
"NANCY! I didn't recognize you!"
The power of the glasses is undeniable. I bet I could rob a bank and people would be left saying "I know it was a woman, but because of the glasses she had on I have NO recollection of what her face looked like."
The second story involves my other pair of glasses. They are half rimless, with a silver bar across the top and orange arms. Yes, Louise, I think I AM obsessed with orange. Anyway, I had them on once while visiting a mall local to my parents. There was a LensCrafters in the mall, and I thought that it would be a fantastic birthday present to myself to have some new frames...perhaps all orange, or blue with orange...or maybe black.
Plastic, anyway, regarless of colour, because the metal frames get heavy and try to slide down my nose but are thwarted by the "nose pinchy thingys" that I'm sure have a name but I call 'em as I see 'em.
I walked into the LC at the mall and asked about getting new frames. I told them I had a LC prescription and as she looked it up in the system, she asked me why I wanted new frames when the ones I had were Just So Cute and fit my face Just So Perfectly.
Let me interrupt here to say that Georgia, where my parents live, is a RED state. RED RED RED. As in Republican. Also, let me add that this took place in November of last year, when we all knew who had just LOST the election.
I said, "I want new frames because these are heavy and pinch a bit (she's nodding and scanning the computer screen which hasn't produced my prescription yet) and because frankly I'm tired of people telling me I have glasses just like Sarah Palin's." Apparently the magical sound of Democratic Dislike for Ms. Palin was all the computer needed to find my prescription and render some bad news.
"I think she's a stunning woman," the LC employee said. "But I can't help you, your prescription has expired as of December 2007."
"But I just got these," I said, taking them off for fear that I might start sounding crazy if I wore them a moment longer, "last March, in Greenville."
"Well," she said, standing up to indicate our conversation was over. "They may do things like that in South Carolina, but we don't here in Georgia. Thanks for coming in though!"
I've got to read up on which UK politicians wear which frames before I go in for new glasses here. I should also take a third person with me, in case when I put the new ones on Simon ceases to recognize me and runs away from the crazy American asking for his opinion...