Meet The American Suntanning Association

The American Suntanning Association is a newly formed lobbying group made up of some 1,400 tanning salon owners. According to an investigative reporting piece published on the NBC News Open Channel blog, one of ASA’s board members has described the organization’s goal in rather chilling terms:  “The sort of mission of the organization that we all agreed on was that our main objective has to be to get more people in tanning beds. … The direction we’re going to take is going to be around media relations and regulatory relations that direct people to indoor tanning salons.”

For more information about the ASA and a little ‘sunshine’ on what it’s up to, go to http://openchannel.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/01/22/16630988-dermatologists-blast-tanning-industry-campaign-to-play-down-skin-cancer-fears?lite.

ASA's efforts bear a striking resemblance to the tactics of the tobacco industry-- if you don’t like the scientific evidence linking use of your product to an increased risk of cancer then hire an expensive public relations firm to help you make stuff up in an effort to debunk the science. Oy, but this is just all so breathtakingly mercenary that it deserves a song. To the tune of The Rolling Stones’ “Sympathy For The Devil”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J9AexiRyPc0



Please allow me to introduce myself
I sell tans of ‘health’ and ‘taste’
I've been around for a long, long year
Laid many a man’s moles to waste

I was 'round when teenage types
Had their moments of doubt and pain
Made damn sure that child ones
Got their tans and sealed their fate

Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name
But what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game

I spread around fake research words
When I saw it was a time for a change
Spread afar health lies sinister
And quack media streamed the same

I rode to bank
Held a convention rank
While tan Blitzkrieg raged
And tan bodies tanked

Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name, oh yeah
Ah, what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game, ah yeah

I watched with glee
While your kids in ‘teens
Fought for next decade
For tan bod they made

I shouted out,
"U gives the healthy D!"
When after all
It was food you eat

Let me please introduce myself
I sell tans of ‘health’ and ‘taste’
And I laid traps for teenagers
Who get killed before they reach old age

Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah
But what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game, ahhh yeah, get down, baby

Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name, oh yeah
But what's confusing you
Is just the nature of my game mmm yeah
Just as every doc is a criminal
And all sun tanners saints
And heads is tails
Just call me Lucifer
'Cause I'm in need of some restraint

So if you meet me
Have no courtesy
Have no sympathy, have no baste
Use all your well-learned common sense
Or I'll lay your moles to waste, mmm yeah

Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name, mmm yeah
But what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game, mmm mean it, get down

Woo, who
ah yeah, get on down
Oh yeah
bum bum ba ba ba do a, bum bum ba ba ba do a
yea Ahh yeah!

Tell me baby, what's my name
Tell me honey, a can ya guess my name
Tell me baby, what's my name
I tell you one time, you're to blame

Oh, who
woo, woo
Woo, who alright
oo, oo oo
Woo, who, who
Woo, who, who
Oh, yeah
Woo, who, who
Woo, who, who
Oh, yeah

well What's my name
Tell me, baby, a what's my name
Tell me, sweetie, a what's my name

oo, who, who
oo, who, who
oo, who, who
oo, who, who
oo, who, who
oo, who, who
oo, who, who

Ahhhhh, yeah
Woo woo

Close Encounters With The Burned Kind

I spent several lazy days last week at a lovely beach hotel south of the border. After an early morning walk and swim workout that was a fruitless attempt at burning off excess cerveza calories, I mostly just lollygagged under an umbrella ‘working on my pale’. But one day I got restless and decided to go on a snorkeling and sea kayaking adventure-- one that provided a glimpse into a world that I just don’t encounter in my sheltered daily life at home.

After enjoying some snorkeling and a spot of lunch, our little group of aquatic adventurers was paddling back to our point of embarkation when we spotted a very large catamaran barreling beachwards on a direct collision course with our small flotilla of kayaks. We all followed the lead of our guide and started to waive our paddles in the air, hoping the catamaran’s captain would spot us and veer off to our left. Fortunately, this stratagem eventually worked well enough to avoid mayhem. But as this ”booze cruise” catamaran passed by rather too closely for comfort and I worked to position my kayak to hit the trailing high wake at the proper angle to avoid being flipped over, I couldn’t help but notice the party crowd on the catamaran. It consisted entirely of very tanned males who weren’t wearing sun-protective clothing or hats. Or much of anything else for that matter. It dawned on me that, in more ways than one, these gentlemen and I are playing on different teams. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that, as comedian Jerry Seinfeld would say.) Apparently young women aren’t the only demographic group that is all too often still buying the line that tan is beautiful? Is this is an overlooked at-risk population that’s not even on the radar screen of any of the nonprofits that are waging melanoma awareness campaigns?

Wondering whether it’s time to launch a new diversity sensitivity training program here at the Hotel Melanoma, I’ll sign off with my rendition of Jackson Browne’s “Rock Me On The Water”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yAXl4kYZyoA


Oh people, look around you
Sun lies are everywhere
You've left it for somebody other than you
To be the one to care
We're lost inside our silos
There's no time to climb out now
The waves are churning and those brothers are burning
I'm going to paddle clear and try to get back to the beach somehow

Sun road is filled with soulless moles
Every woman, child and man
Who have no idea where they will glow
But they'll join you if they tan
Now everyone must have sun spot
That's going to mutate new somehow
Well sun fires are raging hotter and hotter
But the misters of the sun are going to rock me on the water now

Rock me on the water
Mister will you groove my leeward bow
Rock me on the water
I'll get drowned in the sea somehow

Oh people, look among you
It's there our hope must lie
There's a C scourge from sun’s hue
Hiding in some place to tease us ‘til we die
We all must do the best we can
And then hang on to pale Gospel now

When my ride is over, I'm going to stand before the water
But the misters of the sun are going to rock me on the water now

Rock me on the water
Mister will you groove my leeward bow
Rock me on the water, maybe I'll defend her
Maybe I'll defend her now
Rock me on the water
The wind is with me now
So rock me on the water
I'll get drowned in the sea somehow

Break On Through To The Paler Side

A few words of unsolicited advice. (Come to think of it, have I ever given any other kind on this site?) Your check-in at the Hotel Melanoma is not a reason to hide indoors the rest of your life. This Hotel includes a white sandy beach, infinity pool with a swim-up bar, Par 90 golf course with funnel-shaped greens that feed all putts to the hole, hiking and biking trails that only go downhill, and continuously groomed ski slopes. All for your outdoor enjoyment during daylight hours. You needn’t cower in your room from dawn to dusk, because you haven’t been transformed into a vampire who will instantly vaporize in the sun. So please keep on doing the things you enjoy, just exercise a little common sense out there and protect the skin you’re still in.


I’ll end today’s homily with the Hotel Melanoma rendition of The Doors’ “ Break On Through”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rOpQjD-rX0g


You know sunrays are joy to ride
Hide inside? No way!
Tried to sun
Tried to fry
Break on through to the paler side
Break on through to the paler side
Break on through to the paler side, yeah

We phased out leather care
Donned our SP wear
But can you still recall
The times we fried
Break on through to the paler side
Break on through to the paler side

Yeah!
C'mon, yeah

Everybody loves my pale sheen
Everybody loves my pale sheen
We get
We get
We get
We get WHITE

I found an island with more charms
Sunbeams with no fries
Palms that shade
Time outside
Break on through to the paler side
Break on through to the paler side
Break on through, oww!
Oh, yeah!

Bathed in ‘screen
Cheek to cheek
Day to day
Hour to hour
The gate is straight
Deep and wide
Break on through to the paler side
Break on through to the paler side
Break on through
Break on through
Break on through
Break on through
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

The Ray-off Season

I’ll be heading south in a few days to bask in warm shade and moist ocean breezes, once again facing the ‘challenges’ of enjoying beach and pool time while staying true to my paler self. Over the course of my years at the Hotel Melanoma, I’ve learned there are numerous advantages to practicing safe sun. Among them are:

■ My cold beverage stays cold far longer in the shade.

■ I don’t need to wear tinted reading glasses to see my trashy beach novel.

■ Walking the beach at sunrise, one is subjected to far fewer visual assaults from overweight non-Yankees wearing thong swim suits.

■ If you swim laps before 10 a.m. when the pool bar opens, you substantially lower your risk of being crushed when a drunken redneck falls into the pool.

So it’s time for me to cease and desist from any further whining that my unprotected days in the tropical sun are history. And for you too.

I don’t particularly like the following song. But I’ve heard its chorus so many, many times during this NFL season I’ve concluded it is my sacred duty as a lyrical blogger to try to mess it up for anyone who does. To the tune of Daniel Powter’s “Bad Day”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H-aNEIsbkM8



When was the moment we turned into ghost
You kick up the ‘screen and sun magic is lost
They tell me your blue skies fade to shade
They tell me your tan fun’s gone away
And I don't need no carryin' on

You stand in the light just to check a new mole
You're faking a smile, skin biopsy to go
You tell me your life's been way off line
They’re cutting out pieces every time
And I don't need no carryin' on

Cause you had some bad rays
You're taking sun down
You sing a sad song cuz you spurned the old brown
You say you don't glow
You tell me don't fry
You work at a smile and you cover your hide
You had some bad rays
The scan shots don't lie
You're turning tan down and you really don't mind
You had some bad rays
You had some bad rays

Well you need a blue sky holiday
The point is they laugh at what you say
And I don't need no carryin' on

You had some bad rays
Your baking caused frown
You sing a sad song cuz you spurned skin so brown
You say you won't glow
You tell me won’t fry
You work at a smile and you cover your hide
You had some bad rays
The scan shots don't lie
You're turning tan down and you really don't mind
You had some bad rays

(Oh.. Holiday..)

Sometimes your system goes on the blink
And the whole thing turns out wrong
You might not make it back and you know
That you could be well oh that strong
And I'm not wrong

So where is pale fashion when we need it the most
Oh you and I
You kick up the ‘screen and sun magic is lost

Cause you had some bad rays
You're faking the brown
You sing a sad song cuz you burned skin too brown
You say you won't glow
You tell me won’t fry
You work at a smile and you cover your hide
You had some bad rays
You've seen what C’s like
And how would it feel for one more time
You had some bad rays
You had some bad rays

Had some bad rays
Had some bad rays
Had some bad rays
Had some bad rays
Had some bad rays

The Black Devil Blues

To the tune of Taj Mahal’s “She Caught The Katy”…


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8_mcvifJ5N0



C got me crazy, and left me a fool for white
C got me crazy, and left me a fool for white
My Black C got me crazy, left me a fool for white
C train pulled out, and I hung on for life
I'm crazy 'bout cure, that hardheaded suntan’s behind

Man my Black C’s gone, great god C’s hidey, C's stalled
You know my Black C’s gone, great god C’s hidey, my Black C she's stalled
Well my Black C she's gone, my Black C she's stalled
She sleeps, still her dread’s in my thinkin’ and The Big C walks Hotel halls
And I'm still crazy 'bout cure, that hardheaded suntan’s behind

Well I drugged my Black C, chemo fine
I wish C’d come and free me some time
If you don't believe I love cure, look at the moles I’ve thinned
If you don't believe I'm thinkin’, look what a pale’s my skin

C got me crazy, and left me a fool for white
C got me crazy, and left me a fool for white
Well my Black C got my crazy, left me a fool for white
C train pulled out, and I hung on for life
I'm crazy 'bout cure, that hardheaded suntan, hardheaded suntan’s behind

To Whine Ain't Divine

To complain is to be human. And, Lord knows, I’ve done my share of whining since checking into the Hotel Melanoma. It’s not, however, one of our most endearing human qualities. For a week or so following discharge from the hospital after a round of inpatient biochemotherapy I felt truly awful, although a little less awful each day. But I quickly learned that nobody, and I mean nobody, wanted to hear it. Heck, if I got to moaning too much even my semi-loyal golden retriever would leave the room in search of peace and better company. And I found that bitching didn’t do much to improve my morale either. So I tried, albeit with mixed success, to either say something positive or humorous about my condition or shut the f#@* up. After all, I chose my course of treatment, with eyes wide open, and nobody told me it was going to be an extended stay at an all-inclusive beach resort.


I’ll end today’s rant with the Hotel Melanoma rendition of “Life During Wartime” from the Talking Heads…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KsksSWOxq2Y

Heard of a plan that is loaded with weapons,
packed up and ready to go
Heard of some treatments, just up the highway,
a place oncology flows
A round of drug fire, off in an instant,
I'm getting used by it now
Live in the ‘screen zone, live in the shadow,
My skin’s all over this brown

This ain't no party, this ain't no disco,
This ain't no fooling around
No time for tanning, or sunny lovey,
I ain't got time for that now

Transmit the dosage, to the receiver,
hope for no cancer some day
I got me PICC port, a gaggle of nurses,
I don't even know my real name
High on the pill side, the docs are loading,
everything's ready to roll
I sleep in the daytime, I look for a lifeline,
I might not ever get home

This ain't no party, this ain't no disco,
this ain't no fooling around
This ain't no Med Club, or breazy beach scene,
I ain't got time for that now

Heard about Houston? Heard about Yervoy?
Heard about IL-2 haze?
You oughta know not to stand by the Oz show
somebody con you on there
I bought the home D, some cocoa butter,
to baste a couple of days
But I ain't got no tweeters, ain't got no
headlines, ain't got no good words ‘bout rays

Why make skin hostage? Why go to fright school?
Gonna be different next time
Must write a letter, must send a postcard,
I must write something to Oz

This ain't no party, this ain't no disco,
this ain't no fooling around
I'd like to diss U, I'd love you scold U
I ain't got no time for tan now

Trouble in transit, got through the roadblock,
C blended with cell crowd
We got computers, we're tapping blog lines,
My old tans ain't allowed
We dress like students, we dress like housewives,
or in a suit and a tie
I changed my lifestyle, for paler times now,
I don't know what tan looks like!

Drugs make me shiver, I feel on bender,
C makes a pretty bad dream
Won't get exhausted, I'll stop my whining,
I ought to get some sleep
Get my instructions, follow directions,
then docs could change my address
Maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day,
whatever they think is best
Spurned all my old cooks, what good are
old cooks? They just help C to thrive
My chest is aching, burns like a furnace,
The nurses keep me alive
Try to stay healthy, physical fitness,
don't want to catch mole disease
Try to be careful, I took those chances,
I better watch what I say

The Invisible Man

I’m so dang pale these days that I could lie on a white sand beach and disappear, but for the fact I’d be wearing long baggy swim trunks.  And a t-shirt.  Both to the great relief of other beach-goers.

But I guess I’d rather stand out at a beach resort with my phosphorescent glow than blend in with folks who look like a giant raisin wearing a Speedo.  We at the Hotel Melanoma are the few, the proud, the pale.

Until next time, I’ll leave you with a new rendition of Free’s “All Right Now”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=siMFORx8uO8

Whoa-oh-oh-oh-woha
There I stood on the beach
Whiteout from my head to my feet;

They said, "Hey, what is this?
Now maybe, baby,
Maybe he's in need of sun bliss."

I said, "Hey, what's your game?
Maybe we can see things the same.
"Now don't you wait, or hesitate.
Get shade before you raise the cancer rate."

All right now, baby, kid’s a-all white now.
All right now, baby, kid’s a-all white now.

(Let me tell you now)

I look ‘fer moles on my space,
Watchin' every groove ev’ry place;
C said, "Look, what's your game?
Are you tryin' to put me to shame?"

I said "Slow, don't go so fast, don't you think that drugs can last?"
C said, "Love, Lord above,
Now you're tryin' to trick me with drugs."

All right now, Black C, kid’s a-all white now.
All right now, Black C, kid’s a-all white now

Triskaidekaphobia

Triskaidekaphobia is an abnormal fear of the number 13. But on this first Friday of 2013 I’m feeling anything but triskaidekaphobic. The reason for that is that in 2013 I’ll celebrate my 60th birthday and, with any luck, my tenth cancerversary of “no evidence of disease” status.

I suppose some of my peers who haven’t checked into the Hotel Carcinoma will moan and whine a bit about turning 60 in 2013. But having been told by a doc or two that I wouldn’t survive my 50th year, I’m relishing the prospect that I just might one day start collecting Social Security and Medicare benefits and become a burden on the next generation. And way, way too many youngsters at the Hotel Melanoma celebrated their last birthday in 2012. Perhaps I owe it to them to make 2013 a year of celebration, hope, and redoubling my efforts in this small melanoma awareness crusade?

The Hotel Melanoma rendition of The Beatles’ “When I’m Sixty-Four”…

When I'm 64 from Eva Simkesyan on Vimeo.

When I get older losing my hair,
Many years from now,
Will they still be setting me a scanning time
Birthday screenings, all spots are fine?

If I'm whacked out from quart of IV
Will they block the door,
Will they still bleed me, will you still read me,
When I'm sixty-four?

oo oo oo oo oo oo oo oooo
You’ll be older too, (ah ah ah ah ah)
And if you say the word,
I could stray from U.

I could be handy setting a fuse
Them tan lights are gone.
You can turn to leather by the poolside
Sun day mornings moles are to hide.

Begging for pardon, spreading the ‘screen,
Who could ask for more?
Will they still bleed me, will you still read me,
When I'm sixty-four?

Every summer we can spend our dotage
In the Isle of White, it’s ‘skin cancer’ fear
We shall ‘screen from rays
Grandchildren pay for me
Medicare must save!

Leave me a comment, post me a line,
Stating point of view.
Indicate precisely what you mean to say
Yours sincerely, Wasted From Rays.

Tell me 'bout cancer, fill in the form
Whine not evermore
Will they still bleed me, will you still read me,
When I'm sixty-four?

Whoo!

Auld Tans Mine

Happy New Year from Hotel Melanoma, to the tune of Rod Stewart’s rendition of “Auld Lang Syne”…


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xiGJ3139358


Should auld a-braisin’ be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld a-braisin’ be forgot,
Oh to fake those auld tans mine.

For auld tans mine, I fear,
For auld tans mine,
I’ll make a bunch o' fine mess yet,
Oh to fake those auld tans mine.

And surely ye'll see your fries stop,
And surely I'll see mine!
And we'll drink a cup o' fine meds, yet,
For the sake of auld tans thine.

For auld tans mine, I fear,
For auld tans mine,
I'll drink a cup o' fine meds yet,
Oh to brake those auld tans mine.

We all have blogged about the rays,
And pu'd the glow tan ‘hind;
But we've squandered many a weary skin
Since auld tans thine.

For auld tans mine, I fear,
For auld tans mine,
I’ll drink a cup o' fine meds yet,
Oh to break those auld tans mine.

We all have played out i' the burn,
Frae morning sun till night;
But ‘screens between us saved hide more
Skin forsakes those auld tans thine.

For auld tans mine, I fear,
For auld tans mine,
I'll drink a cup o' fine meds yet,
Oh to fake those auld tans mine.

And there's a scan, five thirty-five,
And it's a scan of mine!
And I'll take a right good IV draught
For the sake of auld tans mine.

For auld tans mine, I fear,
For auld tans mine,
I'll drink a cup o' fine meds yet,
For to brake those auld tans mine.