After a full day of Hawaiian sun, I am now Red Man, a crispy critter with a glowing nose like “Rudolph the Reindeer.” I have seen a lot of grazing goats on the island and a few weasels, but no deer of any kind. I thought I might melt, or at least my tennis shoes, on my run this morning, plus the pavement around the pool had my bare feet hopping. It’s refreshing to once again be in the air-conditioned comfort of our suite, overlooking the koi ponds and waterfalls on the grounds of the Fairmont. My wife has no business meetings this evening, so we can enjoy an early dinner at Brown’s Beach House. Actually, it will be almost bedtime at home in Portland by the time we start to break bread. Hopefully, it will be accompanied by a fabulous sunset.

We just had a knock on the door, as a conference sponsor had some cold beer and macadamia nuts delivered to the room. I’m not much of a beer drinker, limited to a couple of glasses at our weekly Leadership meeting of retirees and wanna-be’s. My wife does not drink beer at all, so she thought wine might have been more appropriate, especially since she’s the attendee. The automotive industry still tends to be very chauvinistic, as evidenced by their annual males-only golf outing. I understand her frustration, but grateful they they at least let her attend this event. After all, it is the twenty-first century!  

We’re surrounded by volcanic pumice, but have seen little evidence of the active volcano on the other side of the Big Island. There were some quakes just before we arrived and the news footage is unbelievable, but we haven’t even experienced any “vog,” a common island mixture of moisture and volcanic ash that shifts with the wind. It was blue skies all day today with just a few wisps of clouds and temperatures in the mid-eighties. I feel guilty complaining about the heat after months of gray skies and rain, but it’s the “Goldilocks” in me saying, “it’s too hot or too cold…when will it be just right?”

I’m stalling on making that step under the shower, avoiding that feeling of burning needles touching my sensitive skin. The Portland weather conditions are not conducive to maintaining a tan, so I’m once again going through that painful process of sun conditioning. In a few weeks, any signs of brownness will molt away like a snake shedding its skin, and the pale me will return. Pale Man. Red Man. Tan Man. Peel Man. I’ve always thought of a tan as both a status symbol and a hard-earned vacation souvenir. I’m sure that days of excessive sun like this will come back to haunt me, but I’m drawn to the warmth of the sun and a distinct tan line. Anemic-looking white skin is not appealing to me, but neither are skin cancer and age spots. In two days time, just as I’m comfortably adapting to the burning rays, it will be time to leave. Plus, our next stop is New York City where any signs of the sun will be blocked by the Manhattan sky-scrapers, and it’s hard to find a “sunny side of the street.”

“As the sun sets slowly in the west,” concluding another day of retirement bliss, I’m thankful to be both alive and “Red.” Hopefully, tomorrow it will start to turn “brown as a berry,” and I’ll have that tropical glow that’s been missing during the Portland winter. At the moment, however, I feel like I was left in the oven just a little too long. Aloha and Aloe!