An Even Odder Duck

It's agreed then; the consensus seems to be that I am, indeed, An Odd Duck. In my defence and goodness knows but I need one, I think I'm more weird than out-and-out compulsive. I mean to say that when I do publish a blog at 11:37, say, I don't feel compelled (or is it compulsed) to log back in and change it. And I don't really do the balancing of the right and left sides all that much — just whenever the mood strikes. But I will accept that I may be somewhat compulsive and perhaps more than a little weird.

For example: I wear prescription glasses, have since I was about 16 as a matter of fact — except that I don't really wear them. I am not wearing them as I sit here now. I don't wear them when I'm reading, and I don't often wear them when I'm watching the telly. I do wear them when I'm driving because the law deems that I must. But I also am quick to remove them at the slightest provocation. They come off the moment that I come in to the house. When I sit down at a restaurant, they normally come right off — if I haven't already remembered to leave them in the car that is.

To me, glasses are an irksome bit of nuisance. Oh, when I was teaching, I'd leave them on. I found it helpful to see the expressions on their cute little faces — helpful as a gauge but not always helpful to my ego. I even managed, better than many it seems, to be able to handle the nuances of dealing with progressive lenses, at least in that context — usually, but not always. Frequently, when I was required to get down to their desks to squint at something on a map, I would remove my glasses, saying something like, "I can't see with these stupid glasses on." Invariably, they would find that humourous although I have no idea why. The other day, something possessed me to wear them into the grocery store but trying to read labels on shelves through the most appropriate part of the progressive lenses was so frustrating that I soon pocketed them.

Then there's watches. I have three fine, old watches, which I very much like. But not enough to wear them. The first, was a present from my parents back in 1967 when I went away to university. Cuppa had it refurbished about ten years ago for an anniversary present. I very much like and appreciate it, but I seldom wear it. I also have my Uncle Charlie's watch that is even older, I suppose. I tend to grab that one if I feel that I really must keep track of the time if I'm out and about. I also have Uncle Charlie's 25th anniversary watch from Eatons, a famous Canadian department store that was eventually mismanaged out of existence. It is engraved as such and is Rolex-made, believe it or not. I love having it, but I don't wear it. I think I last wore it at Butterfly's wedding two years ago. If I do wear a watch, I am likely to slip it onto the gearshift handle when I'm driving. It just irritates me — the watch, I mean. And if I wear it into a restaurant, it almost always joins my spectacles on the table beside me, and Cuppa will be forced to remind me to gather all of my accoutrements when it is time to depart.

Finally, for now, there is the sad story of my wedding ring. Yes, gasp, I don't wear it either. Not regularly anyhow, for it also throws off my fine and sensitive balance. Lately, I have tried to make an effort to wear it when I think of it, but that doesn't include around the house, and I usually don't remember to slip it on if I go out. I do feel a little badly and guilty about the ring, for I'm very married and very devoted to the lady of my life. Fortunately, she is not an insecure person and realizes that my disinclination to wear my ring represents no statement other than that I'm a pretty weird fellow.

But really now. I'm not the only one with weird proclivities. Who is going to step up to the plate and expose theirs? It really doesn't hurt to go public you know — much.

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PS: Please notice the time of this post. I didn't fiddle with it; that's the real time. It's even better than a time ending in a zero. It's just so doggone even.