I'm now officially a four-eyes, something I never imagined I'd be. When I was in high school I never believed the day would come when I would be squinting to read road signs or not be able to watch the television without the characters onscreen having a fuzzy outline around them. I just always assumed I'd have great eyesight. We're such boneheads when we're young.

I really didn't think I was as bad as all that until one weekend I decided to go to New Hampshire to visit my best friend Sue. I was fine until I crossed the state line, then it was like I'd entered another time zone. A zone in which none of the signs were readable and everything seemed blurry and out of focus. I was unable to read any of the road signs until I was right on top of them, and by then it was too late. I'd missed my turnoff. I was confused as to why I could see fine in Maine and not well at all in the next state. Geez...I answered myself, maybe it's because you don't have to read or see that well in Maine because you've lived there your entire life and know your way around. It was kind of scary, though. How was I going to find my way to my friend's house if I couldn't read the road signs?

I flipped open my cell and called Sue. She'd been expecting my call, said she would've been disappointed if I hadn't gotten lost (she knows me too well). She got me back on track and I thought I was doing really well, until I realized I'd gone further than the mile I was only supposed to go, to get to my next turn. I pushed Sue's number again, "how'd you get way down there? That's heading towards Manchester, the complete opposite of where you're supposed to be going."

I explained my lack of clear-eyed vision to her.

Sue was annoyed, "whaddya mean you can't read the signs? They're like ten feet tall with bright white letters on 'em. How could you NOT read them?"

"I don't know. Just tell me how to get turned around, so I can get to your house."

I followed her directions and thought I was on my way, until I veered right into an intersection rather than left. Sue was more than annoyed when I called her yet again. "Are you kidding me? Seriously, you can't read the signs?"

"Not until I'm right on top of them."

"Are you ****** (insert swear word of your own choosing) crazy? What are you doing driving when can't even see! I could just strangle you!"

"I hope you don't, we've got a lot of catching up to do and it'll be tough for me to do that with your hands around my neck."

Sue's scolding and my own realization of how poor my eyesight had become was what prompted me into going for my eye exam. The exam proved that I couldn't see at a distance and that I definitely needed glasses.

It's weird though, most people see glasses as a sign of their 'oldness' but to be honest, I was just relieved to be able to see clearly again. It's pretty hard to know where your going if you can't read the signs.
(c)djc2008



CollisionCourse

Check out my new blog with my novel-in-progress!
Every week I'll be posting another chapter (as long as there's interest). Tell me what you think...

Hi All!

I started a new blog..my work-in-progress novel.

CollisionCourse

And here's hoping you'll take a minute to check it out. This book was something I started many years ago, but never quite finished the way I wanted, so I'm now revisiting and revising it. There may be some of you who recognize the characters, but the point of view has shifted and been changed.

Be sure to leave your comments on what seems to work and what doesn't.

The weather has changed. We're on the upswing. It's been perfect weather for my son to finally be able to use the bicycle he got for Easter. Because the bike has stunt pegs on both wheels, he's been pretty psyched to ride it. And ever since the sun came out, he's been right out there buzzing up and down the road. As of yet though, his stunts haven't gotten too dangerous. His confidence isn't where it needs to be to try those kinds of stunts. Right now, he's testing himself with the easy ones; taking his feet off the pedals while coasting down the hill or placing his feet on the front wheel pegs. Although I realize as his confidence increases, so will his daring, so I'm keeping a watch on him. I just hope his bravery doesn't get him into trouble, like mine did when I was younger.

I was around thirteen when my brother got his first ten speed. I was so jealous. All I had was a pink banana bike with pink tassels and pink fenders. After seeing his, mine seemed babyish and wayyyy too pink. I begged my mother to let me ride his, but that was a big no-go; she insisted it was too big for me and that I'd hurt myself on it. I couldn't get the thought of riding the big bike out of my head, though. And as everyone knows the result of being denied something is that you want it even more.

One afternoon, after checking to make sure nobody was watching, I made the decision to ride my brother's bike, despite the fact that it was direct disobedience and that I'd probably get into deep doo-doo if I got caught. Although I hated to admit it, my mother had been right. The ten speed was too big for me, but that made me even more determined to ride it. It was taller than me by about two inches and the only thing I could do was angle it down so that it leaned in towards me, that way I could throw my leg over it and straddle it. I positioned one pedal upward so that when I pushed down on it, I would gain momentum and start cruising. I had to jump a bit to place myself on the edge of the seat, but it was just enough so that the front of my feet were touching the pedals. The next thing I knew I was flying down the road on my brother's bike and it was like I was flying. The risk had definitely been worth it.

But, like all things that we know we aren't supposed to do, fate seems to take hold and remind us that all risks come with consequences. Because my body wasn't long enough to really reach the pedals and the brakes on the handlebars, I was unable to control the bike. After taking the corner of our road too fast, I hit the soft sand on the side and started to skid out. I tried reaching for the brakes and clutched it too quickly. I went flying off the bike and slammed into the tar as the bike flew out from underneath me. I had road rash all along the front of my legs and my elbows were dripping blood. When I finally got up to check my brother's bike, I was relieved to see that it had landed in the grass and was in better shape than I. I walked the bike back up the road and saw my mother waiting for me on the steps.

"Told you you'd get hurt on it."

Guess that's what you get for being brave. I'm going to have to share this story with my son, but I doubt it'll matter, because kids never listen to their mothers, do they?

Spring is the air...yes even though we've still got snow banks as tall as a small car...Spring is definitely around the corner. I've even heard reports of cardinal sightings. If it's true that the summer birds are navigating their way back home, then those April showers and May flowers can't be far behind. And what do thoughts of Spring bring about in people? Well, I've heard how a young man's fancy turns to thoughts of love. Maybe so, but most of the men in my vicinity seem to have only thoughts of spring training for the upcoming baseball season, fishing, camping or other outdoor activities.

It's my thought, though, that it's the young woman whose fancy tends to make the man believe he should be thinking more about love and less about baseball or fishing. It's she who makes all the moves, sends out the signals and causes his attention to be momentarily diverted from cleats, caps and poles. Her short-shorts, halter tops and open toe sandals are the number one contributing factors to him throwing all other thoughts out the window in order to pursue her "fanciness".

On occasion though (and correct me if I'm wrong) a young woman's thoughts are not only about love, they're also about, "the dress, the day and of course, the ring". Which seems a tad sneaky, because the only thing on his mind, when in the presence of short-shorts and halters, is well...you know. But, her thoughts just might go all the way to the end of the story...the alter. Spring is all about weddings. How many people are married in the spring? The statistics are astronomical and the wedding business goes into overdrive. Business is booming for wedding planners, caterers and bridal shops. Spring is their Christmas and a bride needs a groom, so thank goodness his "fancy" is in high gear.

Now, this isn't to say that all women are out to bring home the gold (so to speak), but hey, most women can't seem to resist this perfect opportunity. Ask your parents, check with them as to when your father first noticed your mother. I'll bet my computer keys that your father's head swiveled all the way around when he noticed the smiling, laughing girl sitting on the park bench or walking her dog or going for an afternoon stroll. Her golden hair waving in the gentle, spring breeze and the sun shining off her glistening, tan skin. I doubt very much he noticed the mousy, pale girl sitting in the library with her face buried in a book.

And not to offend the mousy girl in the library who did indeed get her man…how did you do it? I’m pretty sure you had to lift your head up from the book and smile at your intended. With some guys, that’s all it takes. You tickled his “fancy” and his thoughts turned to love. 'Nuff said.

Spring really is the time to turn a young man’s thoughts to love…with a little help from the woman.

The other day I said something that completely cracked my son up. And every time he said it out loud he couldn’t stop himself from laughing. It’s something I hadn’t said in a long time and it just happened to slip out. We were lugging boxes up from the basement and into his room and one was filled with heavy books. I was so surprised by the weight of it, I said, “Jeezum Crony Toads, this thing is heavy!”

My son looked at me and started laughing hysterically.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.

He stammered and tried to repeat what I’d said, “Jeezum chromie…what?”

“Jeezum Crony Toads.”
“Jeezum Crony…Toads?”
“Yeh, jeezum crony toads…what’s the matter with that?”

He started laughing all over again. I thought he was going to roll around on the floor, he was laughing so hard. I crossed my arms and watched him. Then I thought about what I’d said and I had to smile. C’mon, say it out loud; jeezum crony toads…it does sound funny.

Because I live in Maine and hear these phases all the time, they seem normal to me, but for those outside my locale, a lot of these can be called pretty damn laughable. Check these out:

Not only is there jeezum crony toads, there’s also jeezum crow as in, “Jeezum Crow this box is heavy!”

- Or here’s another: “Holy toledo, this box is heavy!”
- How about: “This is one wicked heavy box!’
- Or in the form of a question: “Is that box heavy?” Your answer: “I guess prob-ly it is!”

The lingo is funny as well; especially when getting driving directions from a local person (and not the standard, you can’t get there from here).

“You need to go a mile, mile -n- a half (which in Maine distance is more like two, two -n- half miles) down this here road. When you see the cow barn (which is tricky in the country, because they’re everywhere) take your next right onto The Davis Road (never just Davis Road, because in Maine, all roads have to have a The, as a part of their name) then onto The Back Road (which is probably just that, a dirt-packed, back road that’s filled with ruts and potholes big enough to swallow a small car). When you get to the end of that road, keep going straight (which really isn’t straight at all, but usually a twisting, turning road with plenty of dead man’s curves; that'll keep you riding the brake for almost the entire way) and then hook onto 121 (which is actually a state route number, but most Mainers usually just leave the word route off) and that’ll take you right into town and on Main Street. Once you’re on Main Street (streets don’t carry a The in front of their names, because they’re streets and not roads) head sorta, maybe southern-like (this would leave some unconvinced as to which direction they're really supposed to be going in) for a few minutes until you land on Place Street and the street you’re looking for will be right across from you.”

Now, as local, I know exactly where I'm going. But for anyone who isn't from around here, I wonder if a simple, “You can’t get there from here” would be easier.