Let this be a lesson: Years of sun without sunscreen. On the water, where I've spend a great deal of life from age five until today, the powers of the sun are magnified. Skin turns to leather. You look years older than you really are. I do a double take when looking at photos of an older Bob, the well weathered model.
Had I to do over again? Naw. Everything would remain the same. No time taken to apply sun screen. Just go out and do it. Bake that skin. Fry that brain.
You see me here at table having dinner with an acquaintance, his wife, my wife, the ghosts of our parents (they're always watching) and our two dogs. I'm lecturing Kiri here. Kiris is learning about the importance of the application of sun screen before embarking on a day in the yard. She's just finished expressing her opinion (woof!) that she would rather roll in the mud than apply sun screen. And she would.
As for me, I'd rather be sailing and adding to my leathered appearance. . . .the badge of stupidity.