Some people are obsessed with buying new clothes. If you turn them loose in a mall, they will quickly run up huge bills they will later regret. Others are obsessed with cars; they have to keep buying new ones. Men in midlife crises often run out and buy little red sports cars.
My obsession is on a smaller scale, but a big problem nonetheless.I'm obsessed with sunglasses.
Besides the fact that they block out dangerous sun rays, they look cool.
As soon as spring hits, I start cruising the stores looking for new ones. It takes a long time for me to buy, because I have to see everything that is available.
It matters not that I have several pairs already squirreled away in various drawers of the house and the glove box of the car. Black frames, brown frames, white frames. Heavy frames, lightweight frames. Plastic frames, wire frames, square frames, oval frames, black frames with bright yellow temples.
You see what I mean.
Whatever color they are, they are out of style now - and the truth is I never liked them anyway.
In fact, I only liked one pair of sunglasses in my entire life.
That was back in 1961.
They were black wrap-arounds, and so they were not only stylish, they kept dust particles and insects from getting into my eyes.
But I lost them, and that's another problem. I lose sunglasses all the time. I don't always have a pocket to put them in, and if I do, they'll drop out. Or I put them down on a table or a chair and forget to pick them up.
That's why I was excited about the invention of little strings that loop onto the temples of the frame, enabling you to hang the sunglasses around your neck when they're not on your face. That makes the glasses almost impossible to lose, although there is a problem with water drops when you lean down to drink from a water fountain, or crumbs if you leave them on while you're eating.
But the really mod approach is to wear Chums, a more elaborate, fat, washable, cloth-like string that actually slips over the entire temple. It is a really weird-looking gizmo that looks cool when hanging around your neck and nerd-like when slipped over your ears.
That is because from the back Chums look like a cheap stethoscope dangling from your ears.
Anyhow, as long as I have strings or Chums, I lose fewer sunglasses. Of course, that doesn't matter, because I don't want any pair for longer than a couple of weeks. I could be called the Imelda Marcos of sunglasses.
The problem is that I always find something wrong with them. They dig into my nose. They hurt my ears. They irritate my cheek. People comment about how stupid they look.
Or worst of all, they aren't dark enough.
But I don't take them back, because I've already lost the receipt.
I realize there is a new development for connoisseurs of sun glasses. We now are supposed to look for UV ratings, telling us how much ultra-violet rays are blocked out - 60 percent, 90 percent, whatever. I suspect the preferable rating is 100 percent.
What puzzles me is that sunglasses advertised with 100 percent protection are so light - new technology. Some are tinted green or blue - and I hate that.
Gray is the only color I accept for a lens. I've always tended to judge the effectiveness of sunglasses on the darkness of the lens. If I put on a pair, and it immediately seems like nighttime, I know I've got a winner.
Besides, really dark sunglasses are great to hide behind. Some of your closest friends may not immediately recognize you, and you have the freedom to look shifty-eyed or to stare at a person without detection.
Sunglasses are the natural harbingers of summer, and I need several more pairs before I'll be satisfied.
I guess it's my dark side.