Andrea Kayda '5 Song Demo'

Last week I paid a visit to my optometrist. One of the first questions for me was “How’s your vision since you’re getting up there in years?”

I was planning on telling him anyway so I didn’t take it as a slam against my advancement towards my middle-age years. Every now and again, I get carded at bars and the liquor stores. Hell, I’m holding up pretty good.

I told him that I have noticed a bit of a change in my vision. I have to hold things with tiny print just a little further away from me than I used to. I also require more light to read too.

When I started to notice this change, I’ll admit it… I was a little worried. I was starting to think “diabetes” like ‘Seinfeld’s’ George Constanza fears lupus. But Dr. Byrnes put my worries to rest when he explained that the last batch of lenses was getting too sharp for my aging eyes. He backed off the prescription and my uncertainties about injecting insulin have disappeared.

I’m still not putting away the possibility that I may need to invest in some reading glasses in the near future. I’ll know there’s a problem when I can’t read a Jim Beam (sponsor of the number 7 car driven by Robby Gordon) label when I’m completely sober.

Over the weekend, I took my nephew Preston to the Monster Truck Jam at the Greensboro Coliseum. I’ve only been one other time and that was with a bunch of Peaches Music & Video coworkers of mine. We all decided to visit a bar and get a little buzz on before heading out for some car crushing good times. And when we got there, the booze kept flowing until we were all screaming maniacs.

This time, things were different. Preston isn’t old enough to get his drink on and I had to remain sober even though I enjoyed a few adult beverages early on.

We got there early enough to visit the mud-caked floor of the Coliseum and walk amongst the Monster Trucks. I snapped a picture of Preston standing against the back left tire of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles truck. He looks like a small rock propped up against a spare donut tire in comparison. We couldn’t meet any of the drivers because the lines were ridiculous. You couldn’t really move around too well and for the record, I saw more blue eye shadow that night than you’ll find in all the porno films made in the 70’s and 80’s.

We had time to walk the entire floor before we were told to leave. Then the both of us hit the Carlyle Club for drinks and to watch the Redskins game.

The football game bored the hell out of him so he found somewhere else to turn his attention to and her name was Katherine.

“Unka Gene,” he points across the room to a dark haired beauty, “she’s hot.” Then he wolf-whistled in her direction.

“Preston!” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. “You’re not a construction worker. You don’t whistle at women like that unless they’re your wife or girlfriend. That’s disrespectful.”

He didn’t take his eyes off her and I asked, “Why don’t you go over there and introduce yourself? Tell her your name and just say ‘hi’.”

His shyness got the best of him and he refused to listen to his hopelessly single Unka Gene. But, Katherine saw Preston looking at her and she made the first move. She came over and started chatting with him and he started to open up a little.

After that, every time she got near, Preston would hold her up from her work duties.

While watching the Redskins lose, we heard some engine activity and Preston was determined that we check it out. I tried to tell him that the show didn’t start for a few more hours, but it didn’t sink into his tiny skull. We walked out to the arena and towards our seats. We got a few feet from our seats and I turned around to get his drink so he wouldn’t spill it coming down the steps. His hands were clenched to the sides of his head as he held that drink under his arm. He was near tears as he was shouting, “IT’S TOO LOUD!”

He broke and ran for the safety of the Carlyle Club and I followed while trying to keep a straight face. It was funny to me for some reason, but I didn’t let him see me laughing. His earplugs were the adult plunger type and I was certain that they weren’t going to work for him in his smaller ears. That’s why I brought another pair and after that, everything was all right. No more problems with noise.

He had a great time yelling and screaming like my drunken ass did about 20 years ago.