I went to the eye doctor the other day--just the optometrist, not an opthamologist. I simply needed to have an eye exam for new glasses. The last time I had such an exam, you see, was in California. Four or five years ago. I could tell that my eyes were getting worse because I have to wear my glasses more often. I usually only have to wear them for night driving.

I could tell as soon as the doc (who, by the way was twelve years old, I swear; it was so hard to resist calling him Doogie) started his spiel that he was up to something. I was right. He wanted to give me progressive bifocals.

But I fixed his wagons. I told him I would come back in seven years when I am fifty for bifocals.

Why don't I feel good about this?

Holy crap! In seven years I'm going to be fifty!

That's why.