Over the past year, I’ve endured eye surgery, a couple of other eye procedures and an assortment of eye medicines for an assortment of eye conditions. And it’s all left me with a pair of shiners worthy of a barroom brawler. Don’t feel sorry for me. Oh, go ahead. Feel sorry for me. I do. I’m joking. I’m getting better every day—at least my eyes are. And the important thing is I can see. I just don’t want to be seen—or photographed. And wouldn’t …
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