I wear contact lenses to see far away, and glasses on top of them so that I can read up close.
“Why not just get bifocals?”
Well, during the pandemic, I wore my contacts like tiny little Captain America shields for my eyes - I could practically hear the near constant ricochet of infectious particles and allergens bouncing off of them.
Consequently, I hadn’t bought a pair of prescription glasses in a very long time, which is why I was practically giddy when the family took a trip to “use our insurance before the end of the year” at the optical shop.
We all got eye exams, I got a picture of the inside of my eye taken with a new large white optometrist robot thing, then everyone chose a pair of glasses that suited them. My daughter got two.
For my turn, I chose Ray Bans. Normally, these make me look like a blues musician, but there was a new style that actually did suit my face. And besides, I was only going to wear them around the house to look at movies, given my still active reticence toward naked eyeballs on the NYC subway.
So I chose the Ray Ban / Metas.
Again, they really do fit my face, and I like the matte finish.
They talk, of course, but I really was focused on the fit. And the matte finish.
About 10 years ago I bought a pair of sunglasses from a vending machine in England: the bright yellow box held a worldwide rarity at the time, a wearable camera that connected directly to your smartphone. They were advertised as the best way to take photos for social media, a more natural way to capture the world around you.
I’m not 17 years old, or 24, or 32 even - the world around me is filled with laundry and dishwashing and grocery shopping. In the ads were happy people on beaches and in convertible cars with the top down. They should have had a little sticker on the box reading, “Lifestyle Not Included”. But they were a summer novelty, and we each took turns taking random photos of coffee cups, clouds, and each other.
When choosing these current glasses, I honestly didn’t realize they had a camera in them. Unlike their predecessors, the design is incredibly subtle, and I was happy that I could afford to at last join in that “Risky Business” fashion trend from 40 years ago. Better late than never.
But these glasses do more than take pictures. They capture video and have hidden bluetooth speakers that only the wearer can hear. Which is cool for when you don’t want white earbuds in.
But they also have a feature I didn’t really understand. With a click of a switch they become semi-sentient, able to not only tell you the time and weather but LOOK AT WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING AT and TELL YOU WHAT IT IS.
Their example for this feature is a woman holding a vegetable.
“What can I prepare with this for dinner that will only take 20 minutes?” she asks.
The glasses reply, “You are holding bok choi - cut into 1 inch pieces and sauté with garlic and olive oil for 7 minutes.”
Most of us are used to being heard by our technology, speaking to our watches or phones or speakers. But being seen by them is different, isn’t it? It’s cool, but it’s a little…creepy.
We bonded with the staff of the optical shop. Try as we might, we do not portray the typical American family: our more than occasional dance breaks and obscure foreign movie references spotlight us as, if not eccentric, then casually unconcerned with public opinion, both of which are true. We had a great time, and when we were ready to check out we brought our selections to the front desk, and after an hour of chatting, the woman who was helping us felt as if she could be totally honest.
“You’re getting those?” she asked me, regarding my selection.
“Yes!” I enthusiastically said. “It’s like being Iron Man!”
Her smile did not dim, but it did freeze… it ceased, for a moment, to organically evolve. Her eyes did not move from mine. “What are you going to use them for?”
“Well, we just got a new kitten, and he is really fast, so I’ll be taking photos of him, and then listening to music when I can’t find my AirPods™, and then translating non-English language newspapers at work.” (Oh, they read foreign languages too. Forgot to mention that.)
“Oh!” Her smile started to move again. “That’s great.” she said, then added “You know, we have never sold a pair of those glasses to a woman.”
“Really?” I asked. “Why?”
“Because” my daughter said, “they’re creepy, Dad.”
“How are they creepy? Do I look creepy?”
“No!” The sales associate lowered her voice a bit. “It think they sound like fun, but most of the other men said they were getting them for the beach.”
There was a beat while I caught up.
“Eeew.”
“Yeah,” she continued.
“Oh, I’m not looking at people, I’m just taking pictures of dishes and laundry and clouds and stuff.”
“Yeah, Dad, it’s not you.” My daughter patted me reassuringly on the shoulder. “They’ll be fun.”
We are now at the eve of Spookytime™, when the wind doesn’t just blow, it howls, and each creak of the floor just slightly echos through the crisp night air.
Some focus on fear at this time, but I’ve always felt it’s more about bravery. The John F. Kennedy quote “the only thing we have to fear is fear itself” seems a bit meta in a world where everything is screaming at you to be afraid of something new everyday. But I’ve gotten used to that.
What gets me are the subtleties, where innocent and maturely fashionable items like eyeglasses combine with headphones (totally normal) and a camera (also totally normal) and then some optical Dr. Frankenstein puts ‘em on that lightning table and brings them to life, where your glasses are LOOKING AT YOU. I mean, I’m no Luddite, I’m absolutely impressed, but I do have to admit that they’re just a little… well….y’know.
Creepy.