Conceivably

You want to know why, if you wear glasses, you should always keep a spare pair?

Oh, sure, I know. I don't have to sell you on this one. You know you should have a spare pair. The fright of losing them runs through your mind in a quick rush. Dear God, I can't see without them! I really should get around to getting another pair. I really should. But really, with the availabilty of one hour glasses shops, it's probably the last thing on your mind, particularly when one takes into account how much a pair of spectacles costs these days. If they break, I can get another pair with minimal hassle. Besides, you say to yourself, how likely is it that I'll need a spare pair? After all, that only happens when the worst case scenario comes and visits my life.

My devoted Cake Eater Reader I am here to tell you that, conceivably, it need not be a worst case scenario that would cause you temporary blindness. Provided you're legally blind without your spectacles. Like I am. In something like seventeen states.

Never mind losing your best, most effective pair of corrective lenses in the sea.

Never mind losing your best pair in a car crash.

Never mind losing your best pair on a roller coaster that goes upside down.

Never mind losing your best pair as you run from a mummy---a freshly resurrected mummy, I should add---who's chasing you through Hamunaptra because one of your party had the bad sense to read the Book of the Dead out loud. (Dude! It's small consolation, I know, but pretty soon it won't matter. But you should probably know that your tongue's next!)

Never mind any of those wild rides. Occam's razor, my friend. Occam's razor. The simplest explanation is, most often, the correct one.

Ahem

You could, theoretically speaking, have just washed your spectacles. You could---again, theoretically speaking---be drying them. You could hear a small snap and in your hands you would find that the bridge of your glasses has separated into two pieces, leaving you with a lens and a corresponding earpiece in either hand.

What follows next could, conceivably, be interesting.

You could, conceivably, let out a small yelp of surprise.

Your spouse could, conceivably, ask, "What's wrong?" from the other room.

You could, conceivably, walk into said other room, eyes narrowed as you manuever your way around blurry-looking furniture, saying, "Look, honey, my glasses broke!"

Your spouse could, conceivably, take the two pieces into his hands and he could say, "Oh, I can fix that."

You could, conceivably, nod your head and stumble back into the other room where your spare pair of spectacles awaits their moment in the spotlight. They've been understudying for quite some time, after all. It's time for them to come into the limelight.

Now that you, conceivably, have your spares on your nose after rummaging around your desk for the case, you could, conceivably, go about your business.

Ten minutes later, conceivably, you could find your husband sitting at the dining room table with a lit votive candle, a small tool you're too distracted to notice, and your broken spectacles, looking very much like he's about to perform some voodoo ceremony sans the bloody chicken's head.

You could, conceivably, hold your breath and then say, in a voice loaded with skepticism, "Honey, I thought you were going to glue them back together."

Your spouse could, conceivably, respond, "I thought I'd try this instead."

You could, conceivably, walk away, not really wanting to know.

You could, conceivably, walk back a few minutes later, only to note that the candle has been blown out. It's mysteriously vanished, all except for the lingering smell of smoke from when it was extinguished. Your husband, conceivably, could be pulling himself up from the table, a sheepish smile on his face, and he could, conceivably, say, "Well, that didn't go so well."

You could then, conceivably, turn your head to look at your still-snapped spectacles as they sit on the green placemat your husband's been using as a workstation. When you, conceivably, pick up your spectacles to take a good look at them, you might note that the plastic had been completely torched and melted into something that would now be completely unrepairable by even the least competent glasses technician available.

You could then, conceivably, shrug good-naturedly and say, "It's a good thing I've got the spares, isn't it?"

Posted by Kathy at July 5, 2005 10:17 PM | TrackBack