When I moved out to Indiana I remember being shocked at how
many people had blonde hair and orange skin in the winter. Here in New England
most people are pasty for about nine months out of the year. I myself am a
fluorescent shade of white. I could probably be a medical diagram of the
circulatory system. I’m sure you can understand how perplexed I was by these
strangely colored people. It was not long before I discovered the fact that
several birth control medications and others used for acne and other skin
conditions react not so well with ultra violet light, resulting in orange
pallor. Mix this interesting reaction with the copious quantities of sorority
girls on my Big Ten college campus and you find yourself with a front row seat
at the Oompa Loompa family reunion.
Since I saw the news teaser about
the woman, Patricia Krentcil, who allegedly took her child into a tanning
booth, I have not been able to get this picture out of my head. Yes, I know
people are concerned for the welfare of the child. I guess that’s reasonable
while a bit hypocritical, as crack moms shoot up in front of their kids on a
regular basis and no one seems to care about those children. I am way more concerned about the mental well
being of this woman. How can you be so unhappy with yourself that you think
turning your face into a melted snickers bar will make things better?
I tried the tanning salon a couple
of times myself. One of the girls in my dormitory told me that tanning would
cure my sinus congestion. I didn’t believe her, of course, but was curious at
this widely accepted hobby I knew little about. I don’t mind sweating while I
exercise or at the beach where I can go cool off in the ocean. Sweating while
you are lying still in a lit up coffin like tube, however, is pretty gross.
Those things are HOT (not to mention nasty)! It’s not like parking yourself on
a towel over soft sand with the warm rays of the sun heating up your skin as
the occasional breeze cools you down. It’s more like sitting on a radiator (if
you grew up in an old house you’ll know what I’m talking about) except your
whole body is on that radiator. And the weird little shields you have to put
over your eyes aren’t the most comfortable. Sometimes you can even get stickers
to put on your skin. You can have white shapes burned into your skin with a
sort of reverse branding effect. I only lasted ten minutes in the ultraviolet
tube my first time and my ass was burnt lobster red THROUGH the bathing suit I
wore. (You do not know whose naked butt touched that thing. Yuck.) I don’t
think it ever really turned into a tan.
Why are
people still participating in this odd, self-destructive activity? I think it’s
been made pretty clear that going to the tanning salon is a really quick way to
serve yourself a hefty helping of melanoma. Do people just not care? This is a
pretty superficial image oriented activity. I imagine most people tan because
they like the look. So, you would think that someone who wanted their skin to
look a certain way would be less than excited about having large chunks of
their face removed for biopsies.
I did see
on one episode of Dr. Oz that some quack was recommending getting in a tanning
bed to increase your levels of Vitamin D. If you’ve read my other posts, you
know that I think Dr. Oz is a space alien and anything he supports you should
probably run away from screaming. So, if you are unfortunate enough to have
been swindled into thinking that tanning is a safe and effective way to get
Vitamin D, I can assure you it is not. You can get the UV rays from the sun to
turn your cholesterol into Vitamin D and while you are still at risk for burns,
it is not even close to as bad as putting the ultraviolet light inches away
from you. Believe it or not, there is an even safer cancer free way to get Vitamin
D and that is at your local drug store. Who would have guessed? You know what
else you can get at the drug store? Sun free fake tanning lotions!
I think
avoiding the sun altogether is a bit extreme. I certainly plan to spend many
days at the beach this summer, with some sunblock on. And I will welcome the
Celtic in my blood as the freckles show up all over my face. But I don’t want
to work for Willie Wonka. And last time I checked he wasn’t accepting
applications. Lay off the cancer chambers, America! Go to the beach and get
skin cancer the normal way!
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