Goggles Give a Drinkless ‘Drunk’ a New Perspective

Thanks to a set of disorienting goggles, I now know how it feels to get pulled over after drinking 10 beers in an hour.

I gained this knowledge Friday in Rosemead at the Don Bosco Technical Institute gymnasium, where California Highway Patrol officers were using the agency’s new Fatal Vision lenses to show students how drinking impairs coordination.

At a mock sobriety checkpoint in front of about 50 boys from the high school’s lettermen’s society, I strapped the goggles on and sat in a plastic chair, somewhat confident that I could convince the authorities I was sober.

An affable officer named Richard LaBeske approached my “passenger side” and asked in his most courteous CHP tone how I was doing?

Fine, I said.

Sir, may I see your license and registration?

Sure, I said.

And that’s when my problems began.

*

I looked for my notebook on the chair next to mine. As I went to grab it, I felt like a television weatherman unsuccessfully trying to gauge a spot on his map, aiming for Chatsworth but hitting Calabasas and having to drag his finger north.

I eventually got a grip on the note pad and tried to hand it to the officer, but missed by a foot. The students boomed with laughter.

Sir, have you had anything to drink tonight?

Just a beer, I said.

LaBeske didn’t buy it and politely asked me to step outside and walk the dreaded line.

The goggles did not blur my vision, they simply contorted my visual perspective, as alcohol is known to do. The set I was wearing is supposed to create the view of a person with a 0.20% blood-alcohol level, 2 1/2 times the legal limit for driving.

Friday’s was the first Southern California student demonstration of Fatal Vision, the CHP’s latest anti-drunk driving education tool.

“This,” said Officer Evan Robinson, “is the closest simulation to drinking without putting alcohol to your lips. . . . We’re trying to show you that the control you thought you might have might not be there.”

Robinson stressed that the glasses only mimic the visually disorienting effect of alcohol; a true drunk must also reckon with a muddled brain and failing motor skills.

“Your muscles are going to be a lot more relaxed and limp” when you’re drunk, he told the students. “You have that wet noodle effect.”

On Friday, volunteers tried three sets of goggles, re-creating 0.08% (the standard for drunk driving), 0.15% and 0.20% blood-alcohol levels.

The first test was shooting basketball free throws.

Joseph Alanis, 17, put on the most powerful goggles. With heavy, deliberate steps, he stumbled toward the basket, arching his eyes open and then squinting, trying to pinpoint the free-throw line.

Once he got there, he lined up his shot, swaying, and threw the ball. He cleanly missed the net . . . and the rim . . . and the backboard . . . and the pole. His friends laughed.

“I felt weird,” he said. “I thought I was going to make it.”

*

Then came the mock sobriety test. After two students failed miserably, I was asked to demonstrate an adult’s reactions.

As I stepped out of my seat and I started walking, I immediately began listing to one side, then crossed a leg to catch myself.

I veered to the left and swung my right arm out to maintain my balance. I managed to stagger up to the line.

Sir, I want you to place one foot in front of the other and count out nine steps.

Both officers had to hold me up as I began the long, 10-foot walk. My knees wobbled because I couldn’t quite get a sense of the line, or the ground, and now felt grossly intoxicated.

Sir, how big a beer was that?

And I was off to the drunk tank, convinced that a reeling souse is not up to the task of pretending to be sober.