Shattering a proud tradition as a couple, the Wife and I hit the Shore for the first time ever, and my feet resemble twice baked Lobsters. Due to a rather unfortunate mishap with sunscreen and limited experience with tropical blasts, I applied lotion to some body parts more thoroughly than others. Mostly my face is intact. It’s my own fault really. I have a negative tan base. Like if tan was a credit line, I’d owe money on goods I can’t even afford to charge.

By nature I resist direct sunlight. Resistance is an understatement, it’s more like categorically avoid intentional or indirect exposure. As a rough guide, the thermometer must breach ninety-five degrees before shorts replace jeans, and t-shirts sub for long sleeves jerseys. At that point I hover around the A/C until nightfall. However, during this brief fit of enlightenment, or misplaced reason, even the – gasp – swim trunks saw daylight.

The white orb that blinded several children at the ocean’s end was light reflecting off my pasty frame.

Perhaps I’ll try this beach thing again soon. Right after the welts heal.

NOTE: There are no actual welts, only random patches of redness. This is what some call a comic device. You can laugh at me now.