A few months before my 50th birthday last year I finally had to give in and get glasses for reading.

This just killed me.

I have this really goofy attitude towards aging. The number of years I've lived doesn't bother me--I don't dye my hair, so it's white now and I'm perfectly fine with that. The way I look in glasses doesn't bother me, either.

But I hate, absolutely hate, having to wear my glasses. This is extremely stupid, because without them I can barely read the little receipts from the bank machine anymore, there's no hope in heck of deciphering a newspaper, and some magazines with smaller type also defeat me.

If someone ever kidnaps the spousal unit and puts him up for ransom, all I can say is they'd better use very large, dark block printing in the ransom note if they hope to get a reply.

Otherwise, the guy is toast.

My ambivalence about my glasses is stupid. The thing is, reading has always been one of the great joys of my life. So why am I avoiding using something that makes it easier for me to savour words?

I think part of it is that my glasses make me feel creeping decrepitude. I mean, if I'd always worn glasses then it would just be a fact of my life--my eyes needed correcting and that's no biggie.

But my eyes are going as a factor of aging.

Decrepitude.

Before I know it, I'll be wearing a backpack everywhere I go so I can pick up and store the body bits that randomly fall off.

I can see it now, some kid coming up to me in the produce section.

"Ma'am, I think this is your nose. You dropped it in the tangerines."

"Why thank you young man. Would you put it in my backpack for me, beside the case for my glasses?"

Well, ambivalence or not, yesterday I admitted the inevitable. Yesterday I picked up my glasses, put them in their case and put the case in my purse so I'd have them when I went shopping.

Thanks to that little dose of common sense, for the first time in well over a year I was able to read the fine print on the labels.

*Sigh*.

Anybody want to recommend a good backpack for the body bits?

--Marn

P.S.--The International Cavorting Day Hall of Fame is open. You, too, could be part of an institution that's just like the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame except that it doesn't involve music, Ohio, talent or an actual building.

Otherwise, they are remarkably alike.

Celebrate the notion that we should all have one day in our lives when we are free to celebrate a jolt of spontaneous happiness.

Post a button or post a link to the cavorting site and become enshrined! See yourself right up there on the screen!

Make a rubbing of your name!

Oh. Wait. Maybe that last bit wouldn't work. Nevermind that part, 'kay?

Today there is no inductee into the Hall o' Fame. Oh, the horror!

The first ten cavorters who entered the Hall of Fame I have dubbed The Mothers And Fathers of Cavorting. Don't worry, this does not involve messy blood tests, paternity cases OR child support. However, each time I update, I will feature one of them.

Cavorting has a large, loving, extended family of aunts and uncles, too, though, and it would be just wrong not to celebrate their wonderfulness, too.

And now, can I have a drum-roll, please, for Today's Cavorting Aunt's and Uncles: