The Hardest Word

There are some ugly words in the world. The kind that can hit you where you live. One of the newest 'ugly' words to me: bifocals. Bifocals hit you where you live. The very word brings up mental images of white hair and knitting - oh wait, I already have white hair and knit. Just because Miss L'Oreal and I are close personal acquaintances doesn't mean that the truth isn't right below the well-tinted surface. (Actually, it's more gray than white. If it were white, then I could let it grow out, wear black turtlenecks and be completely hip with the '40 is the new 30' crowd)

But just as other words have metamorphised their ugliness into...well, if not beauty then at least acceptibility - words like: paisley, brussel sprouts, gauchos (the pants, not the cowboys. They weren't attractive the first three times around, they're not attractive now), tax season, unwanted facial hair...'bifocals' will, at some point I'm sure, evolve into a shrug and an acceptance.

Although, just to set the record straight, I still don't eat brussel sprouts or wear paisley gauchos. And I'm not springing for a four hundred dollar pair of bifocals when a one hundred dollar pair of 'reading glasses' will do just fine.

Just don't ask me what will happen when I have to buy that little chain that goes around my neck so I can always have them with me. Perhaps another crisis of mortality?