I was the Tan Queen of Tempe High, back in the early sixties when there was just one high school in the town and one public swimming pool - Tempe Beach. Adolescent summers were spent at the “beach” swimming and tanning with friends. Life was good. Then ... it got better!

When I was 16, my family moved into a new house ... with a swimming pool!!!  The backyard pool opened up a whole new world of tanning options for me! My friends and I drank diet soda, listened to the Beatles and worked on our tans . No longer restricted from using oil at the public pool, we slathered on baby oil mixed with iodine (it helped turn the skin “redder”), put peroxide and lemon on our hair (it helped turn the hair blonder) and floated around on rubber rafts for hours at a time, splashing ourselves to cool off - or just sliding off the rafts into the cool water when the baking process became unbearable.

As often as my friends were at my pool tanning with me, I was there more. I also had the advantage of using cutting-edge technology which my brother had rigged up using a piece of cardboard covered with aluminum foil. You could aim it at the sun and angle it to hit your face with more intense rays - accelerating the tanning process. I became the tannest of them all. With my dark skin and bleached hair, I looked like a film negative. I was proud. I was Tan Queen. 

Even going up north to Flagstaff to attend NAU barely put a dent in my tanning quest. On perfectly clear wintery days, my roomies and I basked in the sun on our balconies, getting an especially fast tan from the bright sun reflecting off the newly fallen snow! Tan queens all of us!

From there I got a teaching job in California. I lived in Manhattan Beach with other like-minded tan girls who relished the beach life.  I eventually married and ... what else ... acquired a sailboat!  While most of my friends were now working year-round jobs, I was still free every summer to pursue the sun. I lived on my sailboat in Redondo Beach each and every summer for five years.  

Then, a suspicious spot caught my eye. It was skin cancer, but luckily an early catch and treatable. The dermatologist said that my skin was severely sun damaged and that I would need to keep watching for signs of skin cancer from here on out. For decades to come. AND if I didn’t stop tanning NOW, I would have deeply wrinkled, leathery skin in 20 years. I was 32 years old. 

I quit tanning right then. Just stopped. When I am outdoors now, I look for shade. I am slathered with sunscreen, and I wear a baseball cap and UV clothing if I am going to be in the sun for extended periods of time. I am Snow White now, not Tan Queen.

The dermatologist was right. Over the past 35 years, I have had various chunks of my skin cut out, all over my body. Sometimes when they are cutting, I feel like breaking out with a rendition of Janis Joplin’s hit “Take another little piece of my (leg, face, arm, whatever applies) ... Come on, Come on, TAKE IT!!! ...” 

Because we are in suntan season in Arizona, I want to make this a cautionary tale. You must be vigilant about skin cancer checks at the dermatologist office – no matter how creepy it feels to have a stranger peering at different parts of your body. Basal cell, the kind I have always had (thankfully) is usually only a cosmetic problem. Squamous can get worse. Melanoma is deadly. And, even though you may think you know the appearance of these three skin cancers, sometimes they are tricky.

I have a friend whose melanoma metastasized into her lymph nodes and invaded her body. This melanoma did not look like the ones you see on the skin cancer posters. This was a flesh-colored imposter, hiding in her scalp. Easy to miss until it is too late. She died at the age of 57, after six years of grueling treatment.

That is why you need a professional looking you over. It may save your life. Pick up the phone and make your appointment right now. And, wear sunscreen!