by Marshall Chapman

Photography by Anthony Scarlati

“Where’re my glasses?”


Photograph by Anthony Scarlati

It’s embarrassing how many times I have asked that question. Sometimes rhetorically. Sometimes urgently to anyone within earshot.

“Where’re my glasses!” I say, while holding them in my hand. Or with them propped up on my head. Or hanging from the “V” of my T-shirt. Or, worst of all, while wearing them.

I can’t count the number of times I have dumped all the garbage out in the alleyway behind my house, looking for my glasses. Sometimes in the wee hours of the night. I’ll be out there with a flashlight rummaging through trash, hoping a neighbor doesn’t see me.

I’ve often wondered if, subconsciously, I lose my glasses on purpose just so I can experience the joy and gratitude I feel when I find them.

I once lost a pair of beloved retro, green reading glasses for two years. I’ll never forget the day I found them. I was out in the backyard cleaning out an ivy bed when I spied them down in the ivy. The lenses weren’t even scratched. I still wear those glasses to this day.

My relationship with expensive glasses has not been so fortunate. If I pay more than two hundred dollars for a pair of glasses, it’s a sure bet I will either lose them or break them beyond repair. I once paid over a thousand dollars for a pair of glasses with Varilux® lenses that darkened automatically when exposed to sunlight. I loved those glasses. Sadly, a month after purchase, I lost them somewhere in New Orleans.

My former husband was always trying to persuade me to wear those neck chain or leather cord glasses holders. But I just could not do it. The thought of wearing one of those things conjured up images of my second-grade teacher. Her name was Olga Larrimore, and she was older than Methuselah. My resistance most likely stemmed from fear that, if I wore them, I’d turn into Olga Larrimore—an old spinster with flaccid flesh for triceps that jiggled whenever she wrote on the blackboard.

So where are my glasses?
Well, right now, they’re siting on the bridge of my nose. Otherwise, I couldn’t see to write this article. But who knows where they’ll be tomorrow.

Marshall Chapman is a Nashville-based singer/songwriter, author, and actress. For more information, visit

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