Fifty Shades of Bronze

Being on vacation at the beach is great for people watching. However, I have realized that my family and I have giant red arrows pointing to us with a sign underneath that reads: "Tourists here".

Okay, so the giant red arrows aren't really there. But the sign might as well be. Because we are WHITE. Not cream, not toasted marshmallow, but Casper white. We've-not-seen-the-sun-in-months-white. Being this white means you are a tourist because the locals have skin like Greek Gods. They are golden and svelte and the only white things on them are their teeth and their eyes. (Well, maybe their nether regions too, depending on their proclivities for nude bathing. I felt that asking someone for research purposes was really awkward and probably fell under the category of things a creepy stalker would ask.)

The only thing worse than being a really white tourist is being a really red tourist. This is basically saying, "Yes, I know I am white and will burn but I can't seem to figure out the SPF ratio and how often I should re-apply in order to keep myself from looking like a tomato." Either that or "I'm getting sun cancer in 20 years and I don't care." Neither are true, but nobody ever asks our opinion.

I think that the sunscreen itself probably labels us as tourists too. We've been here for 5 days now and not once have we seen anyone other than our fellow out of towners applying sunscreen. Perhaps this is why the locals are so colorful. They've stopped using sunscreen and their skin itself is now a protective barrier. It's adaptation to the constant barrage of sunny weather. The people are one small step away from becoming lizard people and having their own sci fi movie.

My husband, lucky SOB that he is, is probably the only one in our family who doesn't look like a Yank transplant. He has some sort of Italian/Indian/any other nationality that has lovely skin tone skin or something because he will burn for approximately 47 minutes before it turns to a lovely shade of tan. Rotten bastard. There are women who would kill to have this type of skin. In fact, he should probably be careful he's not hunted down for his pelt. (The Tanelope is being hunted to extinction.)

As for myself, I'll just have to be content with my candy cane skin. (I alternate between red and white.) And there's always the fact that I'll at least have more color than the people back home. Even if that color is red.