I'm still me... just better-looking

Take your time. Notice anything different? What? No, I did NOT have my nose surgically enlarged. OK, yes, I am sporting a goofy Friar Tuck-style haircut, but that's not what I'm talking about.

It's my eyeglasses. They're new. Yes, I have my first new pair of glasses in more than 15 years. These are designed-in-Denmark, handmade-in-Japan glasses that cost more than I paid for my first car. Is that exciting, or what? (Hint: No, it's not. Unless you happen to be my wife, in which case, yes dear, it's very exciting.)

It wasn't my idea to get new glasses. It was my wife's idea. I thought my old glasses were fine. Sure, they had a few flaws such as (a) our dog sat on them six years ago, mangling them so badly they became permanently lop-sided; and (b) they didn't actually improve my vision.

You see, I have no problem getting my eyes tested. I do that a lot, because my wife makes me. But even though I've had about 12 different prescriptions, I've never bothered to get new glasses. At least not until now.

The problem is, I'm a guy and buying new glasses involves the sort of complex shopping scenario guys tend to avoid, just as women avoid films wherein there are car chases and things blowing up as opposed to hour after hour in which the only action consists of sensitive foreign people sharing their innermost feelings.

For guys, shopping involves too many choices. You have to choose between aquamarine frames or tortoise-shell frames or metallic fuchsia frames or whether you want them to automatically turn into sunglasses when you step outside (Note to readers: Yes, my new glasses do that; I look like David Caruso on CSI: Miami, except I'm a better actor.)

What guys want is a single store with a huge sign on top that screams: "EYEGLASSES STORE SELLING EYEGLASSES FOR GUYS WHO NEED GLASSES!" Inside this store, there would be thousands and thousands of pairs of IDENTICAL glasses. That's right: No choices. Just one style. These glasses would NOT make a bold fashion statement. The only statement they'd make is: "Hey, look, I'm wearing glasses!"

That's how it worked when I was a kid. Everybody wore the same glasses. Remember? They had cheap black-plastic frames and the nosepiece was always broken so they had to be held together with hockey tape or a Band-aid. Sure, we all looked like dorks, but it was OK, because we were young and carefree. Of course, we also thought cigarettes made us look cool and no one wore a bike helmet, so we dropped like flies, but that's not the point.

The point is, when it comes to buying eyeglasses, the modern shopping experience is too complicated, which is why my wife came along to guide me.

The way the system works is: You and your wife go into a store and your wife explains to at least six female clerks you need a pair of glasses that will make you look like less like a weenie and more like an Italian film star.

Then they make you take off your glasses. Without my glasses, everything resembles randomly shaped blobs. I am unable to distinguish between my wife, a clerk, a farm animal or a sports utility vehicle. So, with your glasses off, you sit in a chair while your wife and the clerks put a variety of glasses on you, then frown at your face.

"Eeeeeewwww!" they will say, "These ones make him look like he has one giant eyebrow." Or: "Ha ha ha! These ones make him look just like Harry Potter!"

At the store we went to, they also had a big-screen TV playing a video wherein a creepy European guy in a lime-green turtleneck sweater and a little goatee makes trendy glasses. The clerks told me there's a real funny moment where the guy walks past a calendar on the wall and, if you look closely, you can see there's a lady on the calendar who is naked in the sense of not wearing any clothes. I had to take their word for it, though, because it looked like a blob to me.

So I picked up my new eyeglasses Thursday morning and, not only do I look better, I can now actually see what I'm looking at. Did you know stop signs have the word "stop" printed on them? Yes!

And when I wore my new glasses home my now-in-focus wife got so excited she said I look like a new man and we should go out for dinner to celebrate.

At least I think that's my wife.

doug.speirs@freepress.mb.ca

Republished from the Winnipeg Free Press print edition November 20, 2009 A2