I once walked out of a store without paying for a pair of reading glasses. It was an accident. I borrowed them from a display rack since I had left my own at home and forgot to put them back. I placed them instead on top of my head and left the store.

I used to have sharpshooter eyes. Around forty I noticed I couldn't focus on small details. I had to hold things away from my face, then a little farther away, then farther still until my arms just weren't long enough.

Fumbling with reading glasses is sure to be a part of life eventually. Forgetting, borrowing, misplacing, and hating them are things the under-forty set can go ahead and anticipate. Buying things one did not intend to buy, such as artificial honey, glow-in-the-dark toothpaste, dry-clean-only underwear, or dog food made with whale meat, can also be part of the surprise fun, I learned, when the aging shop without adequate label-reading eyewear.

I have avoided ornamental eyeglass chains. I understand their value and appreciate how chains with attached dangling specs eliminate most things wearers hate about glasses, as long as you can overlook crumbs that gather on the lenses. But, I resisted chains. I recently opted, instead, for contact lenses.

I failed to anticipate how a novice might struggle inserting near invisible orbs into the eyes. It's an unnatural act. The process goes like this: Put on reading glasses. Get a visual on the contact lens. Position it on tip of finger. Remove reading glasses. Overstretch eyelid. Aim, poke, blink. Fumble for reading glasses. Curse a few times. Search for dropped contact lens. Retrieve. Moisten. Position on tip of finger. Remove reading glasses. Overstretch eyelid. Repeat. And repeat. These shenanigans can last twenty minutes.

The biggest drawback to contact lenses didn't turn out to be cost, difficulty inserting or even discomfort wearing them. The biggest drawback turned out to be how old contact lenses make me look.

I now consider how middle-age farsightedness coincides with the onset of facial aging. The appearance of a certain percentage of one's crinkling goes undetected by the farsighted naked eye. That, as it turns out, is a kindness.

Contact lenses are cruel that way. Once in, tears are likely to flow You see things you have become accustomed to not seeing clearly, such as your own reflection. Seeing the world through restored close-up vision can be shocking.

Contact lenses seemed a good idea, but I discarded them. They were messy, uncomfortable and inconvenient. What's more, could anyone expect me to devote so much time and money to something that makes me look so old?