About 10 years ago, when I was still working a network news producer, I was out in the field on some breaking news story when a producer from a local t.v. station came up to me. He told me that in his spare time he was the editor of a magazine and he thought it might interest me. Maybe I’d even like to contribute?
I was crazy busy trying to get my story fed to NYC, so I barely even looked up at him. When he tried to hand me the magazine, I asked him to stick it in my bag and said I’d take a look later.
That evening when I got back to my hotel I pulled the magazine out of my bag. It was a fetish magazine for men who like pale women. I kid you not. When he asked if I wanted to contribute he meant pictures. Pictures of my pale, pale, practically see-through skin.
Yup. That happened.
All of this is is by way of telling you that I am what one might call fair. And, if you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you know that I am evangelical about wearing sun block every day of the year. The very first thing I do every morning — before I brush my teeth, even– is apply SPF 110 to every millimeter of my face from my hairline to my décolletage. I wear hats when I’m going to be outdoors for more than a few minutes. I eschew beach vacations.
I am careful.
And today, I am going to have a spot of skin cancer removed from my face.
This is not a huge deal. Luckily (because I am vain) it’s in my hair line by my right ear. It’s small and easily removable.
But here’s the thing: if I can get skin cancer, you can get skin cancer. FACT.
So wear sunscreen, damn it!