I'm going to have the right cataract removed at 11:30, and for the first time since about age 12, I won't need a lens, at least for that eye. I really hate to have anything in my eyes and contacts were never a real possibility. So going through my head right now, is the memory of having to take off my glasses, as a very deliberate act, when I pulled Dad's 1952 Plymouth over to the side of the road, so I could start necking with my very first girl friend. It was such a blatant signal and such a pre-meditated act that I practically blush to think about it.
Oh, to start over again, without glasses! How 'bout driving the Turbo without glasses?