There are few conversations we forget.
A couple of decades ago a chap from Mount Forest gave feedback on typography in the paper. He had been trained somewhere along the way in the art of making the written word more accessible and easier to read.
His call was prompted by a slight change we made on the front page. We started using a screen with a blue background to identify that week’s police report. It looked great and offered a bold new look for readers. The problem was readers couldn’t read it.
He explained nicely how his experiences in print concluded that a screen, let alone a blue-coloured screen, made it virtually impossible for the slightly seeing impaired to discern letters. In time, readers would give up, he warned. We heeded his advice and the format was abandoned.
This many years later we find ourselves in the pickle the statesman of print forewarned.
Like most people, we are foolishly proud on some fronts, denying the inevitable that the time had come for reading glasses.
For months we had caught ourselves reaching across a crowded room with an extended arm to read small type. Jokes from friends and colleagues had started at this point, too. The problem was exasperated in dim light, so much so that we started to rely on companions at dinner to double-check the bill.
Reading kids’ books at night, trying to figure out the correct dosage on a medication bottle or even reading the Newspaper had become a challenge. Books, which we used to be able to pound through in an evening, had turned into a chore. Either we would doze off to sleep or end up closing it quickly, a couple of pages in, because it became too arduous to keep going.
A trip to the optometrist a year ago had already told the tale. Our diagnosis came in the form of a paired-up team of Latin words that sounded quite serious. But it was simple: old age was creeping in.
We’ve been advised by numerous friends that we will grow to want magnifiers or reading glasses tucked away at work and home or in the truck. For now, they sit in a shirt pocket to and from work.
After startling the kids with new spectacles, we opened up a gift from a recent speaking engagement and started to read. We paddled through dozens of pages chronicling a reporter’s life overseas. It felt good to read well written prose, and feed the mind again. It reminded us of the joy that is had when youngsters start to read for the first time.
The next step as we lumber into “old guy” territory with our spectacles will be a reading chair with an ottoman and an accompanying light. Many books and adventures lay ahead.
