New glasses won't help

Well I got to tell you what happened at the Stockman café yesterday morning. I walked in, grabbed a cup of coffee and took an available seat with the rest of the real cowboys. The main topic of discussion was how much rainfall there had been over the last day or so.

The general consensus was that there had been between one and sixty-five to one and eighty-five hundredths of an inch. There was even great discussion and verifications of emptying previous amounts, time observed and even the procedure involved in reading the gauge before they settled on one and seventy-five hundredths of an inch with much discussion and fanfare! (I really think the United Nations negotiators should take some lessons from a cowboy coffee shop on how to come to an agreement!)

The room then quieted since an agreement had been reached.

About that time Neil (who is somewhat younger than the rest of us) walked in and sits down. After a moment of silence, he nodded toward the bulletin board on the far wall and said, “Looks like they are going to sell the old feedlot again.”

Everybody at the main table looked at the bulletin board mumbled an agreement. Neil then mentioned some of the things on the sale list.

Well now I am setting there looking at the bulletin board and can BARELY see the sales flyer, let alone read any of it at this distance. I slyly look at those setting at the table and notice they too are either squinting or adjusting their glasses for a better view of the flyer.

To kind of hide the fact that I am apparently going blind, I make the statement that I thought Laue owned that.

Neil nods in agreement and states, “yep, that’s what the sale bill said.” I notice Doug readjusting his glasses trying to find the right tri-focal to look through as he scans the sale bill on the far wall. Skip and Dale are both squinting at it.

At this distance, I can only read the top line on the sale bill. Below that, I can see nothing but little dots.

Neil continues on describing things on the sale bill, time to start, how the parcels will be sold, different articles to be sold that day, etc etc

I take off my glasses and begin cleaning them. (I notice Doug is doing the same thing.) I also know that if I hold my glasses at a slight angle it has a magnifying effect. So as I clean them I turn toward the sale bill and try to find the correct angle but that doesn’t seem help either at this distance.

Now Skip and Dale neither need glasses except for reading but I notice each rubbing their eyes. Skip says, “my eyes are kind of watering this morning.” Dale agrees that there must be something in the air because his are too.

None of us want to admit that our aging eyes have prevented us from reading the sale bill.

I decide to test Neil and ask who is holding the auction. Neil answers right off.

Well, proof is in the pudding, so I finally admit that I need a new pair of glasses since there is no way I can read that sale bill. Doug, Dale and Skip all mutter an agreement sighting somewhat different reasons.

Neil has a look of amazement on his face and says, “Heck, no way could I read that one. I read the one in the paper last night!”

There is a collective sigh of relief from the table as I pay for my coffee. I can head out now without feeling I am totally over the hill.