As the nurse at my last doctor’s appointment so delicately put it, my vision is down the toilet.

I am, according to that infamous test with the rows of progressively smaller letters, 20/70 in my right eye and 20/40 in my left. Somehow, they manage to collaborate and produce overall vision of 20/30, which is still deep enough into the metaphorical plumbing to necessitate an appointment with an eye doctor and possibly a pair of glasses.

I just got back from a trip to Long Beach. During the seven-hour drive, I read countless signs along the road – but not very well.

For example, there are dozens...