The Leathered Look

I had a nice chat on the driving range yesterday with a fellow golfaholic who turned out to be a physician who does cosmetic laser surgery. He told me my face was sun-damaged and that I ought to be using more sunscreen on the course, and reapply it after finishing the front nine. No kidding. Like tell me something I don’t already know. But I can’t seem to forget my fellow blogger Al’s story about applying sunscreen before hitting the range and then losing his grip and flinging a club high up into the air because he hadn’t wiped off his hands before taking that first full swing. That’s no way to start a back nine with playing partners who won’t give you a mulligan. So maybe I’ll just play golf this season in a hockey goalie’s mask—with my game, anonymity on the course wouldn’t be a bad thing anyway.


To the tune of Led Zeppelin’s “Good Times Bad Times”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=auYKJTv94Tg



In the days of my youth
I was told that sunscreen can beat a tan
Now I've reached old age
I try to use all those things the best I can
No matter how I try
I find my rays into the same old jam

Good times, tan lines, you know I've had my share
Well, my onc man called home ‘bout a frown-eyed scan
But I still don't seem to care

Sixteen, I fell in love with a burn as ‘plete as could be
It only took a couple of days 'til C got hid in me
C swore that he would be all mine and bug me 'til the end
But then he withered in first year, I lost another ‘friend’, oh

Good times, bad times, you know I've had my share
Well, my onc man hit home with a drug trial plan
But I still don't seem to care

Good times, rad times, you know I've had my share
Well, my claims man called home 'bout a denied scan
But I still don't seem to care

I know what it means to be C-prone
I sure do wish I could go home
I don't care what the ray bores say
I'm gonna bug you each and every day

You can see sunscreen hidin’ my parts
Realize, sweet shade, we ain't ever gonna part…