Once Upon a Tee Time
Prologue

The Tumbleweed Tavern was lively during the Friday Happy Hour, at least by middle-aged, white-collar standards. Phoenix patrons focused on mugs of draft beer, platters of chicken wings, and laughing friends, while nodding to music from the ’80s. A single man stood apart from all the others, his toes on a line eight feet in front of a dartboard, his right eye squinting, his left one pinched shut.

The board was a regulation 18 inches in diameter, too small to catch many tosses that scarred the wall around it over the years. The center bullseye measured a mere half-inch wide. That tiny circle served as the entire target for the lone player, Karl Zimmer. His darts found it every single time.

A month earlier, when Karl first started showing off at the tavern, other customers crowded around him to gape at his magic. Now it was old hat, just like his wizardry with a pool cue. Boring. The guy never missed. Many asked why he didn’t compete professionally. Who could possibly beat him? How could anyone match perfection? He only smiled.

Zimmer, an optical engineer, didn’t measure success by 50-point dart throws or the number of times he could run a pool table. In another year, two at the most, lots of people would be enjoying similar or even better results. The new technology that made it possible, his technology, was what mattered. His invention, a contact lens that provided clear, fourfold magnification up to a distance of 25 yards, would reset the bar for all types of human performance. The data was all in the 160-page report that he dropped on his employer’s desk before leaving work. The Status and Future of Telescopic Vision conveyed the schematics, patent information, and proposed budget and timetable for FDA approval of the prototype he now wore on his right eye.

How much did 20/5 vision improve performance? Karl had to look no further than the telescopic rifle sight, the inspiration for his contact lens. Using a traditional open sighting system at a distance of 100 yards, a marksman might hit a six-inch target once in ten tries. Assisted by a four-power scope, the same shooter hit the target consistently. Enhanced visualization made all the difference. When balls on a pool table took on the size of melons, and the six pockets appeared to be as large as bushel baskets, the challenge of the game disappeared. He had proven that himself. More importantly, the telescopic lens would be an invaluable tool for surgeons, scientists, technicians, micro-fabricators – all who relied on visual precision for their work.

Karl celebrated with another gulp of Beck’s Pilsner, a product of his hometown of Bremen, Germany. The Tumbleweed had six Deutsch beers on tap, which was why he chose the place as his regular watering hole. America’s trademark was imagination, not craftsmanship. The country also invested in creative thinking, the sole reason he left his homeland. His former employer, Fokus Optik, had refused to risk Euros on his concept. In the United States, the government, universities, and thousands of private foundations lined up to toss millions at progressive ideas. When a foundation committed funds for a five-year grant in partnership with an Arizona company, he found a new home. Although baseball had replaced soccer on his television, he would never allow American beer to contaminate his refrigerator.

Closing his aided right eye, Karl opened the left and took aim. Using lesser 20/20 vision, his dart missed the bullseye three inches high and left. He chuckled at the wonder of it all. Tomorrow he would buy himself a commemorative gift, a new Mercedes. There was just no substitute for German engineering.