Text 27019, 149 rader
Skriven 2015-05-14 11:50:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: glasses 660
===================
So the glasses came, and there have been dramatic
differences in my ability to see things, most of
them beneficial. My distance acuity has been
brought up to about 20/100, which would make me
legal to drive. I can (sort of) read street signs
and license plates, but I think the rumors of the
demise of my astigmatism are overstated, as I now
see weird migrainelike patterns all the time,
plus there are prismatic effects (colors resolving
into primaries - i.e., stuff like green becoming
bands of blue and yellow - when I am not looking
straight in front of me). Also, I have difficulty
sorting out what is important; back then, if I
looked at a traffic light, its redness or greenness
shined out through the void, whereas now it's buried
in the midst of a whole lot of visual information
that was not there before.

The main downside is that I cannot read yet to
speak of. If normal type is in my sharpness zone
(where the astigmatism starts to kick in badly)
it is too small to read; if it's where I am
accustomed to read it, fairly near my nose, it's
all fuzzy.

The doctor and my friends have been unanimous,
knowing me, in reminding me not to be impatient
and that it could be up to a week before my brain
gets optimally used to the new kind of inputs.

==

So Jonathan wanted to go to Clyde's yesterday, but
one Clyde's in particular, the only one he could
find that served both of the dishes he wanted.

Dish #1 is French onion soup, of which he has been
unduly fond of since childhood.

Dish #2 is Chesapeake blue catfish, which he read
someplace is a terrible new invasive species, the
sensible means of control of which is to be more
voracious than the fish, i.e., eating them out of
existence (I've always advocated such a line of
defense for enemies such as pigeons, woodchucks,
squirrels, rabbits, and kudzu). Clyde's is
enthusiastically implementing this, especially as
it gets to charge full main course prices and use
a resource that, so far, costs it next to nothing.

So he wanted to go to Tyson's Corner, off in what
used to be the wilds of Virginia, now prime real
estate well within the Washington urban sprawl.

I didn't mind - this would mean quality time with
the kid that didn't threaten to be troublesome,
plus it's crabcake month, with the supposedly
jumbo lump cakes at $13.95 for one and $19.95 for
two (a buck less than years past). Previously I
found the cakes less than perfect - less than
jumbo, less than lump - but given the heavy hits
my wallet has been taking I am not inclined to
complain - I'll be spending $100 on a crab dinner
in August in Dutch Harbor, home of the Deadliest
Catch TV show, after the picnic.

I now know how bad and lurchy my brother's driving
is: pretty scary, actually, and as Dirty Dave
suggests, I might make a better driver than he,
despite my visual deficits, still substantial. I
thought I'd get a headache, but all I had to do was
close my eyes when anything queasifying happened.

[Note to Gail and Dale - I've discovered since that
there are two other Clyde's restaurants that offer
those two dishes - Georgetown and Columbia, so
beware.]

The restaurant was somewhat empty when we got there
around 8 on a weekday, though the two bars that we
went past on the way to the table were packed to the
gills; nonetheless we were seated right by the entrance
to the kitchen. I gave Jonathan the chance to demur,
but he didn't, so there we say, and it wasn't too bad.

I had to take the glasses off and put the menu to my
nose to read it, which embarrassed my brother and caused
him to apologize/explain to the waiter, who seemed
moderately amused. He was in general fairly pleasant,
though I did ask twice for bread and butter, and none
came during the whole meal, though unwanted refills of
water and Coke (for Jonathan) did appear.

As expected, my brother ordered his two focus dishes,
so I got two things as well.

The soup of the day was split pea with ham. This
came as a cup of murky thin liquid of a vomitous
yellow color. It was shot full of gristle and fat.
I believe 90% of the population would have sent it
back. I loved it - it was fatty and hammy, and as
you know I do like gristle. It was also quite salty,
and bread and butter would have gone well.

With this I had a glass of the house white, a
Chardonnay from Rutherford; it tasted more like a
Chenin or something, but it was two bucks less than
anything decent.

The crabcakes were as expected, less than jumbo,
less than lump, less than sparkling fresh. My
glasses had two interesting effects. First, as the
correction is so strong (I'm a -14 unfixed) that
everything is shrunk, the things looked even smaller
than the 3 to 3.5 oz they are; also, I could discern
now by sight the bready filler. Slightly fishy, which a
heavy hand with the mustard helped. I should have had
a burger for 40% less. Oh, the garnishes were said
to be asparagus, ramps, red quinoa, vidalia puree,
and balsamic reduction. The grain (which whenever I
encounter it I wonder why anyone bothers to eat the
stuff) and the decently cooked but slightly tough
asparagus were mixed all together, with a few shreds
of garlic-chivey ramp tossesd over. The onion puree
was tasted like cream of nothing. A second glass of
wine helped quite a bit.

Jonathan reports that his onion soup had a faint
plastic taste, which he thinks came from the onions
themselves rather than the (abundant gooey) cheese or
the (very salty) broth. He liked the catfish, though he
ordered it light on the ham (a feature of the dish at
all the restaurants), and it came with no ham at all.

I kept peering around the restaurant, noticing things
that I would not have seen anytime between the founding
of the restaurant and two days ago. I could actually
see the faces of people more than five feet away. This
may have catastrophic effects on my social life, for
now when I don't recognize people I won't have the
excuse of not being able to see them.

Leaving in the gloaming, it was the first time in many
years that I strode confidently off a curb rather than
feeling my way uncertainly. Life will change!

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