When I am trying to read what my coffee options are at the local chain coffee store, I can’t help but feel like Ray Milland at the end of X: THE MAN WITH X-RAY EYES. I have an incredible urge to grab my eyes, while the queue form behind me, ready to shove me out of the way, and scream, “I can’t see!” The life of a four-eyed presbyopic is not an easy one.

It’s a deceptive kind of disorder. For instance, when I am walking down the street, or driving down it, everything is relatively in focus. The world is right and all is well. The trouble doesn’t start until I try to focus on the fine print. As the symptoms set in, most people deal with presbyopia in one of two ways. They either get surgery (not an option in my book) or they get reading glasses (maybe surgery is a good idea). But thanks to a well-place online ad — I won’t say where it was placed — I found out about a third option: contacts.

These are not your run-of-the-mill contacts. We’re talking about multifocal contact lenses. A fancy name and the goods to boot. The multifocal covers your eyeball like any normal contact, but it is design to give you the magnification you need to read objects at a close distance. So, rather than flip out the Matlock specs, you can just look down. What a country.

Before you start measuring me for my casket, lets get a few things straight. Presbyopia is not a serious condition — just an annoying one. If you enjoy an active lifestyle and are not willing to be mistaken for a Victorian governess, then you will have to come to terms with this degenerative condition. That’s right: it’s degenerative. That means the older you get, they worse it gets — like that stoop you told yourself you would grow out of.

The lenses they have no won’t dry your eyes out like the old glass ones. If you remember the glass ones, you may need to enlarge the font of this article to read it. Sure, presbyopia is a drag, but it could always be worse. A good set of multifocal contact lenses will do the trick, so make an appointment with an eye care specialist. That’s a fancy way of saying an eye doctor — there’s one in every strip mall, waiting in the dark to make your cue balls see better.