Glaring again
The sunglasses that I've been using since May 2004 finally broke today. This is noteworthy for a number of reasons, not least of which is the fact that they do not, in fact, belong to me. It is somewhat deflating to consider that my personal record for keeping a pair of sunglasses was achieved with someone else's. Someone named Jim. At least, I remember calling him Jim, whether that was his name or not.
The manner in which the sunglasses came to be in my possession for such a long and fruitful period of time is perhaps not the most riveting tale, but one of interest all the same. It begins not with the broken pair of sunglasses, but with another pair which I bought in Ludlow, Vermont that February. Joel, a close personal friend, international marketing director of Fish window cleaning, and sunglass aficionado convinced me of the superiority of polarized glasses. Waxing poetic, he persuaded me of the sensibility of buying one pair of good sunglasses rather than repeatedly buying cheapies at the gas station. We were in Vermont to go skiing, and what with the depleted ozone layer, global warming, the sun's malicious UV rays careening every which way off the snow, the higher incidence of eye cancer in blue eyed people of no colour, it seemed like it was either polarized now or a white cane and seeing eye dog later.
I'm no fool, so when May came along and it was time to go backpacking in the Grand Canyon, I made sure to wear my polarized sunglasses when I left for the airport with Nat, one of my chums from medical school. In Phoenix, another member of our party, the aforementioned Jim, picked us up at the airport and drove us to the South Rim where we had a room in a hotel at which the rest of our party was staying. Although we didn't arrive before 2am, I couldn't even think about going to sleep without lone wolfing out to the precipice for a glimpse of the canyon filled up with moonshadows. After howling like a lunatic at the full moon, I didn't get to bed until almost 4am. No regrets whatsoever.
The other people in our party, however, having completed a day of inactivity on the rim, wanted to start the descent at 6am. Clearly absurd. They, however, were oldsters of various ages over 55, which is admirable, undertaking such a trip in and of itself, but Nat, Jim, and I didn't share their concerns about the heat, etc. Fine. We'll catch you up presently, I muttered as I rolled over. Sometime around 9am, I had hoisted my pack and was posing for a photograph at the trailhead, squinting into the light.
Fool that I was! Somehow I had forgotten my polarized sunglasses. The plane? The airport? The hotel? The car! Well, Jim tells me as the shadows are receding under the cliffs, I almost didn't bring this extra pair of polarized sunglasses, but it's a good thing I did!
Jim, if you weren't old, male, and a rabid, dogmatic leftist , I could kiss you, I say as I accept.
As it turns out, the others in our party had underestimated their strength and overestimated their needs, so Nat and I, young bucks that we are, served as sherpas for much of the trip. The last day, Jim had to hoof it out of the canyon extra early as he had to be back in Tucson the following morning. In all that sweat and exhaustion, the borrowed sunglasses had been overlooked and I never got the chance to rummage in his car for my polarized sunglasses from Vermont.
Tit for tat, I told myself whenever I thought about mailing the sunglasses to Jim. He can use the ones (I think) I left in his car. Saying this to myself, those sunglasses were the only things standing between me and squinty-eyed cancer in places as far away as Florida, Minnesota, North Carolina, Texas. They spent an entire summer with me at L'Abri in Minnesota, and a ski season in Steamboat Springs, Colorado. They even went with me to New Orleans and Covington, Louisiana to pay my respects at Walker Percy's grave--twice! Now I don't know how I'll keep from sailing into other boats and bridge pillars in Annapolis...
I had actually been hoping to use the sunglasses to leverage my way into a crew position this summer on Jim's sailboat in Nantucket, but I guess now would be as good a time as any to mail them back and see if he won't do the same with mine...
The sunglasses that I've been using since May 2004 finally broke today. This is noteworthy for a number of reasons, not least of which is the fact that they do not, in fact, belong to me. It is somewhat deflating to consider that my personal record for keeping a pair of sunglasses was achieved with someone else's. Someone named Jim. At least, I remember calling him Jim, whether that was his name or not.
The manner in which the sunglasses came to be in my possession for such a long and fruitful period of time is perhaps not the most riveting tale, but one of interest all the same. It begins not with the broken pair of sunglasses, but with another pair which I bought in Ludlow, Vermont that February. Joel, a close personal friend, international marketing director of Fish window cleaning, and sunglass aficionado convinced me of the superiority of polarized glasses. Waxing poetic, he persuaded me of the sensibility of buying one pair of good sunglasses rather than repeatedly buying cheapies at the gas station. We were in Vermont to go skiing, and what with the depleted ozone layer, global warming, the sun's malicious UV rays careening every which way off the snow, the higher incidence of eye cancer in blue eyed people of no colour, it seemed like it was either polarized now or a white cane and seeing eye dog later.
I'm no fool, so when May came along and it was time to go backpacking in the Grand Canyon, I made sure to wear my polarized sunglasses when I left for the airport with Nat, one of my chums from medical school. In Phoenix, another member of our party, the aforementioned Jim, picked us up at the airport and drove us to the South Rim where we had a room in a hotel at which the rest of our party was staying. Although we didn't arrive before 2am, I couldn't even think about going to sleep without lone wolfing out to the precipice for a glimpse of the canyon filled up with moonshadows. After howling like a lunatic at the full moon, I didn't get to bed until almost 4am. No regrets whatsoever.
The other people in our party, however, having completed a day of inactivity on the rim, wanted to start the descent at 6am. Clearly absurd. They, however, were oldsters of various ages over 55, which is admirable, undertaking such a trip in and of itself, but Nat, Jim, and I didn't share their concerns about the heat, etc. Fine. We'll catch you up presently, I muttered as I rolled over. Sometime around 9am, I had hoisted my pack and was posing for a photograph at the trailhead, squinting into the light.
Fool that I was! Somehow I had forgotten my polarized sunglasses. The plane? The airport? The hotel? The car! Well, Jim tells me as the shadows are receding under the cliffs, I almost didn't bring this extra pair of polarized sunglasses, but it's a good thing I did!
Jim, if you weren't old, male, and a rabid, dogmatic leftist , I could kiss you, I say as I accept.
As it turns out, the others in our party had underestimated their strength and overestimated their needs, so Nat and I, young bucks that we are, served as sherpas for much of the trip. The last day, Jim had to hoof it out of the canyon extra early as he had to be back in Tucson the following morning. In all that sweat and exhaustion, the borrowed sunglasses had been overlooked and I never got the chance to rummage in his car for my polarized sunglasses from Vermont.
Tit for tat, I told myself whenever I thought about mailing the sunglasses to Jim. He can use the ones (I think) I left in his car. Saying this to myself, those sunglasses were the only things standing between me and squinty-eyed cancer in places as far away as Florida, Minnesota, North Carolina, Texas. They spent an entire summer with me at L'Abri in Minnesota, and a ski season in Steamboat Springs, Colorado. They even went with me to New Orleans and Covington, Louisiana to pay my respects at Walker Percy's grave--twice! Now I don't know how I'll keep from sailing into other boats and bridge pillars in Annapolis...
I had actually been hoping to use the sunglasses to leverage my way into a crew position this summer on Jim's sailboat in Nantucket, but I guess now would be as good a time as any to mail them back and see if he won't do the same with mine...
posted by DavidKraus at 9:15 AM
2 Comments:
David- enjoyed reading the blog. Hope you are doing well...brooke jared
Assuming Jim tells you to go where I would... will the next pair be polarized? Did I lead you astray? Keep on writing brother, JC
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