I looked in the mirror and someone looked back. Damned if it wasn't me. It was a punishing image of an old man and I suppose I have to accept it, or break every mirror. Obviously, time has not been kind. There must have been an Irishman way back in the Chapman family. He dug so many potatoes his skin turned white with useless freckles sprinkled liberally. This guy, unknowingly, set the standard for skin in my mother's family. It passed on to us. My siblings and I spent endless time and effort each year trying to tan. The best any of us could do were obscene red and blistered sunburns. Year after year. Little did we know that each of us would be sending several dermatologists to Hawaii, Europe and the Far East. Numerous golfing vacations were involved.
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