These Brown Eyes Ain't Turning Blue!

I must apologize upfront today. I have just returned from my annual (or in my case triennial-due to acute laziness) optometrist appointment and my eyes have been severely dilated. It is a frightening proposition to consider how I navigated home behind the wheel, but all are well and safe. If I make any glaring typos or other errors, please just chalk them up to temporary blindness. 

It is rather ironic that I found myself reading vision charts this morning and focusing (insert groan here!) so much attention on my eyes. Why, you ask? Well, this little item from today's Toronto Star captured the imagination. It seems that an inventor out in California (why is it always California?) has supposedly developed a quick and painless procedure that can permanently change brown eyes to blue without altering or damaging vision. Of course, there are many eye care  professionals out there that are rightly skeptical and questioning of said methodology. They worry about damage to the corneas and possible secondary diseases. While all of this discussion is prudent and correct, my first thought as a proud brown-eyed individual was not about the potential side effects, but rather "Isn't this a little bit Third Reich-ish?" Master race building and all. Why in hell would anybody need to permanently alter the colour of one's eyes?

I realize that there isn't a person out there that is 100% happy with their physical appearance, male or female. We all wish we could be shorter, taller, more muscular, thinner, blond, brunette, less wrinkled, and more tanned. We yearn for smaller feet, larger hands, fresher skin and straighter teeth. In some cases we fix what we can, and in some cases we live with what we were given. I myself would love to be a few inches taller just so that I could see over the countertops in stores with ease. I would love to have a foot two sizes larger just so that I could easily purchase shoes and boots. But, there have always been a few absolutes in my life. I am not getting any taller, my foot is a painfully small size 4 1/2 B, and my eyes are and always will be brown. 

Throughout the ages we as a society have poked, prodded, stretched, bound, sucked, pierced, tattooed, and injected ourselves in order to achieve what we foolishly have been led to believe was the ideal in beauty. Who decided that blues eyes were more beautiful than brown or green or hazel or grey? Worse still, who actually believes it? Maybe the blue-eyed girls secretly yearn for brown eyes. Where is the quick fix for them? We desperately need to teach our children to be proud of who they are and love what they have. This quack deserves to be relegated to the historical dustbin along with those who offered pigmentation lightening and darkening, feet binding, and rib removal to improve the silhouette.

The fog and haze from this morning's dilation is finally beginning to lift. That statement was literal, but the metaphor works well, don't you think?