DON'T, I REPEAT DON'T LOOK AT THAT PICTURE



Unless you want your eyes to start running.



Every time I look at Marty Feldman and those eyes, my own start to tear. Not because I have an overwhelming sympathy for anyone who looks like that, but it just hurts me. You know, I don't even have to look at the picture: I just have to think of him and the juices run.



I'm sure he made a good living with his baby browns, but at what cost? I used to think it was some kind of special effect or some kind of distorted thing he could do bugging them out like that. But, no, they were there, that way, all the time.

The closest to Feldman's eyes I ever saw were on a guy I used to work with. He had normal to large size eyes but when he put on his bifocals, his eyes became huge. Scary. They looked dilated to me.

One day in the Teacher's Lounge, he sat at a table facing the crowd seated on each side of the walls. His wife walked in and stood behind him. A teacher asked him to repeat how he was able to spend the money they had saved up for a new car for her on a new sprayer for his peach orchard instead.

He pontificated on how cagey and in charge he was and his wife never knew that's where her car money had gone. Then he turned and as The Beatles sang "He saw her standing there."

Even his pseudo-Feldman eyes couldn't save him. Within one week, she was driving a new car.