A few weeks back I underwent an operation to save my right eye. I had just gone in for a check-up to see if I needed a new prescription and (thankfully) an astute technician sent me immediately to a retina specialist. It turns out my retina was detaching. I imagined a little boat in the sea of my head pulling away from the dock saying, “See you later, stupid!” I was scheduled for an operation the next day. I’ll admit, it was a bit scary. If there’s anything I fear more in life it’s blindness. I’ve spent my entire life at the movies, and the thought of never being able to watch films is my ultimate nightmare. I wish I’d never seen that damn Luis Bunuel & Salvador Dali short film- Un Chien Andalou when I was in my teens, because that slit eyeball scene fucked me up for life.

        And, if I lost one eye would I have to wear a patch? When you’re in your 20s, a patch over one eye is slightly mysterious and rather sexy. In movies, guys with patches always looked so cool.

I think of Kurt Russell as Snake Plisskin in Escape From New York.

Or a James Bond villain like Emilio Largo (Adolfo Celi).

Samuel Jackson as Nick Fury in The Avengers.

Daryl Hannah, so memorably evil as Elle Driver in Kill Bill.

But an eye patch on me would probably make me look like John Wayne in Rooster Cogburn.

        Fortunately, the operation was a success, although for a week I had to keep my head bent over constantly, which was challenging and probably preposterous looking. I had to rent a chair that kept my head cushioned and downward and with a two-way mirror I was able to watch movies and TV. It vaguely resembled a massage chair for a happy-ending that would never come.

The only DVDs that I could watch comfortably bent over in that ludicrous position turned out to be old episodes of Thriller, that great 60s show hosted by Boris Karloff, with ghoulish little tales of terror and a surprising array of future stars like Mary Tyler Moore and William Shatner, and wonderful character actors like Henry Daniell, Henry Jones, John Carradine, Reggie Nalder. Not to mention skilled directors like Ida Lupino and John Brahm. Watching life through a periscope was ghastly but the alternative was more frightening. Even while the surgeon was operating and I was floating in a half-light of dreamy suspension I made a list in my head of things I would miss without both eyes.

        3D. As a kid, I’ll never forget the impression that Vincent Price made scarily swinging in a window in House Of Wax in 3D. I loved finding out years later the director Andre De Toth only had one eye and never even saw his movie in three dimension. While now I have to sit through endless superhero movies just to experience 3D, at home I have a 3D set-up in order to watch Dial M For Murder, The Stewardesses, It Came From Outer Space just to revel in images popping out of my television. I was also expecting a make-up 3D disc from Universal for their new Blu-ray release of Revenge Of The Creature (the first pressing was screwed up). Damn it!

        Cinemascope. When Cinemascope was unleashed in the 1950s, this widescreen format was an attempt to lure audiences away from their home and their TVs. Unfortunately, when those movies ended up on the boob tube they were first released in pan and scan so, as a kid, I knew I was missing so much of the original frame of the movie it was frustrating. Luckily, the flat screen televisions today are elongated and large. But what would it be to see a widescreen movie with only one eye? Would I have to swivel my head back and forth constantly so as not to miss anything?

        I would imagine peripheral vision would be a joke, so a happy jaunt to the liquor store would now be a perilous journey, dodging speeding food delivery bikes or dads desperately trying to look hip on motorized scooters.

        It’s true, during the operation in my woozy state I kept coming up with bad joke titles for my situation. Patch Adams 2. The Hills Have One Eye. Snake Eye. Eye Wide Shut. Reflections In A Golden Gay Eye.

        Or would that 1973 action-exploitation film starring Christina Lindberg– They Call Her One Eye– now be my nickname? The thought of wearing a long black duster-coat, an eye patch and carrying a sawed-off shotgun getting revenge for all those who wronged me was indeed alluring.

        But the operation was a success, and getting that fucking chair out of my apartment was one of the most exhilarating experiences I’ve had in a long time. Actually, the experience of sitting up straight and being able to look at a TV screen was so fabulous watching Wheel Of Fortune almost brought me to tears.

        Did I learn anything from all this? Yes, to wake each morning and be thankful I can see everything around me. Even the dust.

        And it vividly reminded me of that quote from The Alexandria Quartet by Lawrence Durrell:

        “Life is like a cucumber. One minute it’s in your hand, the next it’s up your ass.”