sun worship



Went running late yesterday afternoon. Harbourfront and the Martin Goodman Trail was more crowded than usual, the warmer weather bringing out more rollerbladers, bikers, runners, and walkers. Lots of bare midriffs and chests, too, which makes a nice change of scenery along my usual route. :-)
You'd think fear of skin cancer would have discouraged sun worshippers by now, but there were still a few young guys sprawled on their backs along the lakeshore, checking their pasty white chests hopefully every few minutes, trying to look nonchalant.

Even when sun-worshipping was more fashionable, I could never do it with real enthusiasm. I got too bored, or I'd fall asleep and wake up with a raging headache and the outline of my paperback book sunburned across my stomach. The couple of times I did try it, I felt like like a marshmallow being roasted over a fire, needing to rotate every so often to avoid getting overly browned on one side, etc. Way too complicated.

My 5-year-old niece Annie asked Ruth recently about Barbie anatomy, wondering why all Barbies had such big chests and narrow waists. She is wise beyond her years.

Today's Blatherpics:
More photos from Marcon.
![]() | Just another Stormtrooper checking out the dealers' room. |
![]() | Juanita Coulson. I was blown away by an amazing blues song she did in open filk. |
![]() | Ed Wright, Scott Edersheim and Rand in the food court. |
![]() | I found it somewhat disconcerting that a shop could be so proud of its buckeye milkshakes (what the heck are buckeye milkshakes?) and peanut butter sandwiches that it would proudly advertise them in their front window. |

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