Can’t always beat the heat

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 13/08/2018 (2909 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

I was sitting at my office computer, staring blankly into the middle distance, when I was suddenly jolted into a state of semi-alertness.

“OOOOOOH!” an unexpected voice squealed loudly. “LOOK AT YOUR FACE! WHAT HAPPENED?”

After recovering from the shock, I traced the voice to one of my colleagues, who was dangling over the walls of my office cubicle, staring at my mug with a look of concern, if not outright horror.

This has been happening to me a lot lately.

The problem is my face, which is normally the colour of a loaf of sliced white bread, is currently as red as a (bad word) fire engine.

If a large strawberry could get a sunburn, that is what my face looks like.

What happened was I spent a day floating around in my buddy Joe’s pool, without bothering to slather on several gallons of sunscreen, which is something I normally do.

For the record, I do not blame Joe for the current state of my face, which, if we were standing together in a darkened room, would be glowing and emitting enough radiant heat to fry an egg.

No, Joe tried to protect me in the sense he rummaged around his basement and found a Mexican sombrero for me to wear, but I was reluctant to comply on the grounds that it would reduce my obvious sex appeal.

I regret that decision now, but I do not think it justifies the way everyone I meet feels morally obligated to comment on how my fried face makes them feel.

I’m not kidding about this. Before our last editorial board meeting, none of the deep thinkers were able to expound on the issues of the day without first saying something like: “Yikes! Someone got a little sunshine, didn’t they?” Or: “You must be in a lot of pain because your face is hurting me.”

Even complete strangers feel empowered to comment on the alarming shade of my visage. “Pssst!” a woman whispered to me the other day as I browsed the fresh produce aisle at my local supermarket. “You really should think about wearing a hat when you’re out in the sun.”

Sometimes, they are able to communicate their deep concern without saying a word. In those cases, people, such as the clerk in the grocery checkout aisle, will just stare at me as though I have a third arm protruding from my forehead and then cluck their tongues to suggest I probably should go stick my head into the ice cream freezer.

My wife — and you are going to find this shocking — finds a certain amount of humour in my plight. “Honey, do you mind turning your head the other way? You’re throwing off a lot of heat,” is what she told me the other night as we lay in bed with all three dogs.

Of course, with me being a crusading newspaper columnist famed for his carefree attitude and ability to laugh at life’s problems, I don’t really care whether my sunburned mug causes discomfort — and provides a conversation starter — for those around me.

“Ha ha ha!” is what I say.

“STOP. STARING. AT. ME. AARRGGHH!!!”

OK, maybe I am a little tense, but you’d be uptight, too, if your (bad word) face was the same colour as the lipstick women used to wear in 1950s musicals.

In an effort to make everyone around me feel better about my bright-red hue, I did some research on the internet to track down potential treatments for wicked sunburns.

The big thing I discovered is that, according to experts, the best way to avoid getting burned is to — hold on while I activate the caps lock feature on my keyboard — STAY OUT OF THE SUN! Wow! Is that a helpful tip, or what? This is why I always say: “To hell with experts!”

Fortunately, I did find a few helpful suggestions for easing the pain of an annoying sunburn. For starters, one site suggested the best thing to do is to take a couple of moist tea bags and put them on your eyelids.

So that’s what I did. Then I lay on the couch, which is where my wife found me. “What are you doing?” she asked in the same tone of voice you would use when talking to a houseplant.

“I’m treating my sunburn,” I replied.

I could hear my wife’s eyeballs rolling in her head. “Well,” she finally muttered, “you smell like a cup of Earl Grey.”

I also found a home-remedies site that suggested cucumbers were the answer, thanks to their natural antioxidant and analgesic properties. “Chill cucumbers, then mash in a blender to create a paste and apply to affected sunburned areas including the face. Cucumber also can be soothing for peeling skin following a sunburn,” it advised.

The site also said cold mashed potatoes were a swell option, but I didn’t want to go there, because, well, you have to draw a line in the sand at some point, medically speaking.

I have to say the chilled cucumber paste felt pretty refreshing on my overheated countenance. Again, as I lay on the couch trying to recuperate, my wife felt compelled to share her medical concerns.

“You smell like a Greek salad. You know that, right?” is what she said as I tried to read the sports section.

So the point I am making is that I am deeply sorry my face has been the cause for undue concern.

It feels a lot better now. You can check it out for yourself. I’ll be the one with his head stuck inside the freezer in the ice cream aisle.

doug.speirs@freepress.mb.ca