Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Mrs. Magoo Showers
I don't know about you, but without my contacts or glasses, I'm pretty much through. I wear one of the two for the entire day with one 15 minute exception: The Shower. For the most part, showering is a mechanism of memory, but there are some things that get a little tricky for the visually challenged.
One of my biggest peeves, is shampoo and conditioner bottles that look identical. I'm sure the folks who came up with the design figured they were just killing two birds with one stone, but they were not thinking about the large percentage of the population that's practically blind while sudsing up. Rather than waiting until enough water droplets have accumulated over the identifying word to magnify it to my prescription strength, I just pick one and then have to bring it close to my face to find out if it's my lucky day to get the shampoo on the first try. All it would take would be to change the color of the bottle or the cap. A Braille label perhaps? I do have to applaud a few manufacturers, namely Suave for coming up with the clever idea to have the cap on the top of the shampoo and on the bottom of the conditioner. The guy who came up with that idea not only had his thinking cap on, but also most likely...his glasses.
Shaving is just downright hazardous. The hardest part here is that you can't see, say for instance, where you nicked yourself yesterday. You know it's around your ankle somewhere, but you just can't quite squint hard enough to figure out where. And you end up shaving over it again. I really haven't come up with any solutions on shaving other than a magnifying glass attached to your razor or prescription strength goggles. Both, I think have merit. The caveat on the goggles is that you would have to go to work with goggle outlines on your face reminiscent of 3 hours in chemistry lab. That is of course the only negative, as everyone loves to wear goggles. Kidding. :)
Oh, and heaven forbid you drop a razor or knock off the bar soap that completely blends in with the shower floor. You're blindly feeling along the floor like Mrs. Magoo, narrowly escaping cutting your finger or slipping on the Invisible-To-You Soap.
For those 20/20 visioners reading this, (i.e. Kristin who wears glasses solely for the look ;)): First, I'm jealous. Second, I am posting this so you can feel our pain. Third, if you're involved in some sort of shower product legislation for the blind, I'm making you aware of the situation.
For my visually challenged compadres, I'm just looking for an amen.