Foster Grant Saved My Life Today (Myspace Archives)

It goes without saying (so I'm saying it anyway) that I was happy as a tick on a dog this morning, when my vision cleared up. I mean, sure I'm still blind-ish - but it's my normal eyeglasss-wearing level of blind, not this new old codgerish "where's my reading glasses" crap I went through last night. I was pumped, jazzed, ready to go out and carpe the fucking diem. Stepped outside with a smile on my face, a GPS in my pocket and no plan in mind.

Motherfuck, it was like the sun had split itself in two, shrunk itself down to pinpricks and landed themselves on my goddamn eyelids. It wasn't that it was a very sunny day, no; it was more like I'd woke up and been transported onto the surface of the sun itself. There was no COLOR in my sky, just this blinding, oppressive FORCE that, in another life, I would have called light - but there is no word in the English language to describe this entity that filled my retinas. Calling it "sunlight" is like calling a nuclear explosion "fireworks".

I made it as far as my car, one block away. I shut the door and sat there, catching my breath, hiding from the monster energy being that filled the sky. Driving was out of the question; even through my tinted windshield, I could feel it clawing its way under my eyelids, tearing away micrometers of fluid from my cornea, layer by layer.

I knew I was going to expect some "sensitivity to light". Fuck you, Doc. Ya'll need someone to write your literature for you, because in no way does what I felt compare to "sensitivity to light". Vampires were hiding in the shadows, laughing at my stupidity.

I made it back home, determined to try again. I mean come on, this was silly; it's just sunlight, for gods' sake. That's why we have sunglasses, right? And lo and behold, I have 3 pairs that I barely wear anyway - I mean, they aren't prescription - but I was sure as hell going to put them to good use now!

Bold, confident, and shielded behind the subtle tints of a pair of sports shades, I strode back outside once again.

It was a joke. I may as well have taken pats of butter, placed them underneath my eyelids, then covered my eyes with magnifying lenses. Maryjesusjoseph, that sun was fucking mocking me. Stubborn as I am, I refused to back down; obviously to my desperate brain, all I needed to do was ADJUST. Calm myself, let my eyes get used to the light again. Be all zen and shit. I couldn't drive, but I could walk - so I did.

I made it two blocks to the park before I stopped, resting under the protective canopy of the trees. Oh blessed trees!

You can't imagine the frustration going through my mind. It was too bright to be outside?! This is insane!! I took a deep breath, manned up, and kept going.

Now...I want you to picture this scene. I was standing at the exit of the park, ready to step out onto the busy afternoon Broadway street in Inwood. There are no trees where I'm about to step out into. No shade, save where I'm standing. Yes, standing - literally in the last spot of cooling shade, with a sea of sun-lit concrete before me.

I stood there for...maybe 5, 10 minutes. I couldn't move forward. I was afraid to step out into that sunlight. Suddenly I'm on a goddamned episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and I'm the vampire. I was scared to step out into the light! And when I did....oh holy moses, was it agony! The shades were absolutely useless, I would have stopped and stopped that plastic piece of shit into the ground except it would have meant I'd be in the sunlight for even longer, and it wasn't worth it. I made it another block before I stopped into a Rite-Aid for refuge.

Then, like the fabled Burning Bush, I saw it. The sunglasses rack. I swear I heard angels singing in the background.

I must have tried on every single pair they had, searching for something that would work. Most were useless, but I settled on these yellow-mirrored, black-framed pair of Foster Grant sunglasses that hugged my face so snugly I doubt oxygen could have gotten in. I didn't care what they cost, as long as they worked. I put them on, and stepped out into that visual inferno once more.

Bliss! I couldn't believe it, they were actually working! Sure it was still blindingly bright, but at least now it was tolerable! I didn't feel as if gravity had centered itself on my eyelids, and lifting them to open my eyes was no longer a herculean effort.

So, if you're in the market for a good pair of sunglasses: Foster Grant, "Daytona" model. They saved my life, and FG - if you ever need anyone to do a commercial for you, I'm your man.

"Sensitivity to light". Under-fucking-statement of the year.


1:03 PM