Bronzed God

Bill Clinton likes to say that he was the first black President. I guess that's a moot point now. Likewise, I was the first colored kid in my town, and just like Bill Clinton I am Caucasian. Back in the 1950's and 60's people didn't consider sun-block, in fact I don't think there was even such a product available back then. Instead, people slathered on oils and fats that amplified the rays of the sun and gave you that Coppertone tan. When I was a kid I ran around all summer, swimming and playing in the sun without any protection of any kind, and by the end of the season my skin was always a deep dark brown. Sure occasionally I would get sunburned, and my skin would peel away in sheets, but that was the price you paid for fun in the sun. As an adult I have been a little bit more careful about the sun. I still don't use sun-block, but I try to limit my time out in the sun to less than a half an hour, and in the twenty years I have lived in Florida, I have never been sunburned. That is, until now.

Last week Mark, a couple of friends, and I, went to see a Marlins spring training baseball game. It was a pleasant day, with fresh breezes and moderate temperatures. After two hours of sitting in the sun, drinking beer, and eating sausage sandwiches, we decided we had seen enough and left. Unfortunately I hadn't protected myself with sun-block. Hours later as I was getting ready for bed, I realized that my knees were burning. I looked down and saw that both knees were a lovely, flaming fuchsia. I quickly put on some burn gel from the first aid kit, and hopefully, I won't get knee cancer from this act of stupidity. I figure the skin will eventually just peel off and a fresh epidermis will take its place. I will just have to stay out of the ocean for a while. I wouldn't want my knees to be mistaken for lobsters by some spear fisherman.

In Florida, this is referred to as a tourist tan.