Comment: The Sun Sucks

It's not as if I rack them up like Cleveland does mentions on dubious lists, but I treasure each and every one of the Comments I receive after (some) of my posts. It's the feedback from and interaction with my legions of fans that make this electronic scribbling so worthwhile. A few posts ago I mentioned something about working on my sunburn (a definite fantasy in Cleveland in February) and I received the following comment from "Bill":

Bill said...



It is always best to avoid sunburn if at all possible! However, I have a very light complexion and struggle with sunburns a lot. Fortunately, I found an all-natural product called Regen. It took the pain out of the sunburn and stopped the blistering and peeling! Turns that burn into a great tan! It has saved many a vacation for my family and does not even sting if it gets into your eyes. You should see this: http://blog.oli-co.com/?p=561. You do not have to let sunburn get you down. By the way, if you are already blistering, use it anyway because it keeps your skin from itching! If you are not satisfied, they even give your money back!

Now I have no idea who Bill is. He could be a phishing shill for the sunblock industry, for all I know. But I appreciate his input. Alas, I am no stranger to sunburn and the joys of slopping on gallons of gooey stuff all summer long. There's nothing quite like the wake-up call of a sweaty glob of sunscreen in your eye. I know it might be heresy to say, especially around these sun-abandoned parts this time of year, but I hate the sun. I realize I'm on record as saying yellow is my favorite color, but when it comes to climate hues, I much prefer gray. Anyway, all of this got me nostalgic for a poem I wrote years and years ago, fully explaining my feelings toward our dear, life-providing Sun. Hit the jump link below and bask in some non-cancer causing verbosity.

I Am Red



The sun sucks
The sun sucks something
The sun sucks something deep from within me
     and brings it up to stain my too-white skin
Making it
Red
Like my head.
The curse of my red hair
Is my white skin that burns red
When that sinful sun
Shines even half-assed.
Kentucky Derby infield
Left field bleacher
Spring break lobster man beached wailing
     in burnt back-slapped agony scorched,
I'm a man
Dan
I know no tan
I burn.

On cool summer nights in air-conditioned glassed in porches
My face seethes
And my chunky calves on cold waterbed sheets howl
Howl.

Even my knees weep.

But I like it.

Melanoma Carcinoma Melanoma
Be damned.
I like to be hot-headed and on fire.

It's me.

But all burning's just a prelude to the paradise of peeling.
Flakes of dead skin form on my burgeoning forehead
And snow down for days
And once I yanked a piece from elbow to wrist
Complete.

Oh, the psychic rewards of constant summer peeling away
Peeling away the layers
To get down to the essence
From where the sun sucks something up
To stain me
Sustain me
Make me
Red.

I was
I am
I am to be
Red.

Joe McCarthy Chief Wahoo watermelon face-diving
Shirley Temple cocktail cherry Stingray Corvette clothtop
Budweiser Marilyn-lipped Red Ball Jet Hollywood blood
Devil will care Dillinger-clad woman-traitor
Pee-in-your-pants embarrassed red.

Be green with envy
Wallow in the yellowness of your belly
Purple your prose with blue-faced
Cursings of your blond and brunette-ness
Blacken your world with your white-hot scorn:

I am Richie Cunningham.
Richie Cunningham with a peeling chip on flaming flaking shoulder.

I am red
And I burn.

I am red
And I burn.

I am red
And I burn.

If you can't stand my heat
Stay the hell out of my shade.



Squirrel Bait-Sun God