It’s hard to believe a week has gone by since I was at Menlo College watching my nephew graduate with this Bachelor of Science degree in Business Management.  Last Saturday afternoon, as I sat in the sun soaking in the Vitamin D, just prior to the ceremony, the president of the college, Dr. James J. Kelly, walked by and offered up sunscreen to those of us pale-faces.  I covered the back of my neck and ears and seemed satisfied with the coverage only to find out a few hours later I had missed some vitals like my forehead, nose and cheeks.  So, as the day wore on my pure ivory soap face turned ever darker shades of red.  By the time I made it to my brother’s house that night for dinner, you couldn’t distinguish the color of my face from a lobster’s shell.

Later, after I said my congrats to my nephew and goodbyes to my brother and his wife, I returned to my hotel room exhausted and decided to take a shower before bed.  The hot water on my face hurt as if each drop of water was a pin and my face was a cushion.  The lotion I applied to my skin was absorbed almost as quickly as I applied it.

Sunday, Mother’s Day, was no better.  I took my lovely wife and her mother out to breakfast and my face looked liked I had spent too much time on the grill.  Face down.  It was a deeper shade of scarlet then the day before, neon-like, and I felt as if I could glow in the dark.  I was quite the contrast to the lovely  ladies who accompanied me.  I wondered how my face would look if it were brown.

By Monday, my co-workers were saying it looked like I had gotten some sun over the weekend.  No, I joked, I’m just embarrassed.

I looked like Goldmember by Tuesday.  Talking to a colleague I itched my scalp and a chuck of dead skin the size of a dime dropped to the carpet. I think she probably barfed a little in her mouth.  Oh, it was awesome.  I’m just glad I didn’t try to eat it.

On Wednesday, lotion was no longer an option.  I itched and scratched every dead patch I could put my nails on.  I looked like I had psoriasis.  It isn’t so fly to be a white guy when your face is peeling off on your clothes.

Toward the end of the week, my metamorphosis was complete.  White – red – scarlet – pink – dead – white.  Was this the face that could launch a thousand ships?  No, this was the face that should’ve used more sunscreen from Dr. Kelly.  D’oh!