My wife looks normal, both at a distance and up close -- though, like with most people, if you draw too close, all you can see is a blur.
Anyhow, the truth is she is about as near to normal as I am to being named Mr. Trapezoids. For she has a peculiar glitch in her Japanese brain that can cause her to short-circuit at a moment's notice -- in fact, each and every time she opens our front door.
Picture me now in a sensitivity session. The chairs are circled. All around brawny men with hair on their arms offer me tissues and pat me on the back. Bricklayers, oil riggers, cattle ranchers -- they are macho men, all.