The late 1970s. Laying out on the fantail of the USS Concord, slathered up in the local French concoction guaranteed to make your tan look fabulous.
The 80s. Laying out at the apartment complex pools. Bronzed.
The 90s. Miles and miles and miles unconcerned about SPF.
Last week a chunk the size of a quarter excised from my back. Another on my shoulder the size of a nickel. Both came back positive as basel cell carcinoma. The doc feels he dug deep enough to root it out.
Ah, tanning, aint it lovely.
So today’s brief message is, put on the SPF, not the tanning aids. If you are working or exercising you should re-apply every two hours.
You, like me, are not invinicible. Take care of yourself while you are young.
You’ll be glad you did. And if not, you’ll end up wishing you had.
About Author
