Yo Where My Peepers At?

So I lost my glasses.

I realize it's not exactly Amelia Earhartesque, but g-d it, this is the biggest mystery I've personally encountered since I undiscovered my prized He-Man figurine as a 10-year old during a housing move. That case went cold. I fear the same for my specs.

According to Me, a quarterly journal I don't produce, here are the top 7 whodunits since I coined the term in '85:

1. Is it possible someone else shot JFK? Someone better?
   
2. WTF is my He-Man?!
3. Amelia Earhart. She said she'd be back: why would she lie?
4. How do they "colorize" old black-and-white movies? But like, how?
5. WTF are my glasses?!
6. They don't go frame-by-frame and like, "color" in the whole movie - do they? I guess my point is I don't get it.
7. Space.

They were merely two months old. I nicknamed them "Ol' Lensy". Boy were they a pair to behold. Thick-rimmed, stems that went on forever, and those lenses - oh! those lenses. There was this game we used to play: I'd set them, ever so carefully, right on the bridge of my nose, and they'd try to block my view. But you know what? They never did.

Now, a lot of my assailants out there claim "oh, John," you know, "you just wore those because they, by an order of magnitude, heightened your attractiveness. It was as though Yahweh himself forged them of polycarbonate and bestowed them unto you as he did Moses the Ten to Twenty Commandments - such was the degree to which they divinely complemented your face. I don't want to say they 'defined you', because you have other positive attributes, like your skill at baseball and math, but you certainly assumed something of a new identity when they graced your visage." Harsh.

Attack me all you like, but here's the straight scoop. Most people hope that prescription glasses unlock for them what opticians consider ideal: twenty-twenty. Here's where my tale takes a sharp left turn. Just as there is a Holy Grail of energy (inifinitely abundant and clean), or of 80s sitcoms (Growing Pains), so too is there one of vision, and with my Polo Ralph Lauren RL-6017s, I reached it: twenty-zero. This means I could see things from twenty feet away that people with normal vision could only see from zero feet away - inside their heads. That's right: I could read minds. I'm pretty sure.

You pickin' up what I'm puttin' down?

Maybe now you understand the value I assign to these "glasses". It's way more than their retail value of $214.99 at For Eyes in Maple Shade, minus the $100 my insurance company covered. It's like, at least double.

So do I have suspicions as to their whereabouts? Frick yes. I probably left them at PJs. EPH!