Geschützt - Protected

It’s December. It’s 26 degrees centigrade. It’s summer in the southern hemisphere! While they’re freezing their nuts (and whatever the lady equivalent is) off back in England, I’m enjoying Auckland’s bright, ozone-hole-enhanced, skin-crispening sunshine. If you’re not adequately protected here you will, much like an unattended car on a Manchester council estate, burn inside ten minutes. While 26 degrees may not sound that hot, the sun here is so intense it feels way above 30. Sorry, thirty. No, actually 30. Mental note: a pointless internal argument is possibly the least novel of word count-extending methods. As is the transcription of ‘mental notes’. A more interesting mental note would be meeeeeelllllarph. Or a J on the major scale. But neither would be in any way related to today’s strained subject of sun protection, and so shouldn‘t make the edit. Mental note: remember to cut this paragraph before publication. Done.

I’ve always had some ability to place where people are from based on their looks. While this may sound prejudice and a bit racist, I assure you there’s no slurs or swastikas involved, so labelling me ignorant is the worst you could do. I don’t find determining between Japanese, Korean, Thai, Vietnamese and Filipino that hard. Likewise between Indians, Pakistanis and those of the generic Middle East to their west. Europeans are more difficult, but fortunately it’s made tons easier this time of year when all Scottish and Irish nationals are conveniently highlighted with an intense lobster-red sheen. Either they don’t wear sunscreen, or their skin is simply too translucent for it to work. I’m not exactly Mr Tan (and thankfully so - he was a strutting fuckwit in my year at school) but comparatively I’m almost skin-tonally Zimbabwean. And not the bludgeoned white farmer kind either. (Although they probably have quite good tans.) Now I’m not having a go - merely pointing out that the Scots and Irish in this country are living dangerously. Skin cancer kills more people annually in New Zealand than traffic accidents, depression, small children with guns, spaceships and Santa Claus. Combined. So for them, covering up is a must this summer, much the same as me ending this god-awful drivel at the next full stop. Or this one.