Speaking of suntans and driving. I recall my buddy. He had just finished up from his spring semester in college, like back East, Vermont or New Hampshire. He was going to drive to New Mexico for the summer. Sounds reasonable. With an automatic transmission and the driver's window down, wearing a t-shirt, he had his left arm resting on the sill of the window, for the majority of the 2,000-plus-miles. When he finally made it, wow, that was a left arm with a serious farmer's-tan, totally lobster, wind-burned, tender flesh; his steering-arm still looked white as vanilla ice cream.
Around here, clear dry skies, high altitude. So it is like nine-months of hoodies and flannels; everyone's dressed like a shoplifter, unless it is too hot to spend much time outside. This morning was like 53 F or less; the smell of the furnace turned on for the first time in fall is always kinda alarming.