By 1967 I’d been wearing glasses about three years. This was way before designers thought there was any money to be made crafting frames for the nearsighted. Pretty much everyone who wore glasses back then looked like a dork. If you already looked like a dork without glasses, then you were really in trouble…. So, one day I’m at Bob’s house and he’s rummaging around in my brother Bill’s forbidden music. He pulls out The Lovin’ Spoonful’s album and places it on the turntable. The next to last song—right before “Summer In The City”—is “4 Eyes.” Bob turns the volume up loud and sings along with the record in a raucous pre-pubescent squeal. How many fingers… ha ha ha, he taunts as he dances around the room. With each replay of the chorus he holds up a different number of fingers. That was about when our friendship ended and our fortunes diverged, Bob heading upward into borderline popularity, and me joining the sixth grade band.