However, now I resemble a pale Grandpa Munster.
I’ve turned from a sun-worshiping Greek god into a sun-avoiding Transylvanian vampire.
I’m forever walking on the shady side of the street in fear that if the sun ever casts a single ray upon me…I will suddenly disintegrate into a pile of ash.
I’m sure many of you remember a time when mixing iodine with baby oil was on everyone‘s summertime must-do list. This concoction was believed to be the perfect tanning elixir. And how naive we were not to realize that the iodine was merely staining our skin and the baby oil was merely burning it; creating the perfect landscape for the possibility of future skin grafts.
I can still envision myself like a mad scientist, pouring a small bottle of red iodine into a large bottle of baby oil and then shaking it; making sure each precious drop was blended to perfection.
I remember carefully laying my beach towel on the sand, and then meticulously applying the oil to every inch of my chalky flesh.
I remember the smell of the air, as warm wafts of baby oil and iodine floated across the entire Wildwood, New Jersey shore.
I also remember hearing the sound of The Four Seasons singing, “Sherry Baby” on my RCA transistor radio.
Such fond memories.
Later, when I moved to Florida, I discovered additional aid in tan acceleration - I started using one of those silver beach mats that magnified the sun’s rays. So, between using baby oil and iodine, and my tinfoil microwave mat…I was able to cook in half the time.
I often felt like a hamburger patty being charbroiled, because whenever I would flip my body over to tan the other side, I would actually hear myself sizzle.
And knowing how I am now; not being able to tolerant heat at all, I cringe at the thought.
It’s strange how I’ve gone from saluting the sun to howling at the moon.
However, I will admit…I really enjoyed the time I spent tanning.
I loved how it gave me that nice, healthy glow…
Would you care for some Red Lobster...anyone?