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- Subscribe - Contact Us - Rate Card - Place an Ad Valley&State Backpage O&E Sports Archives Classifieds Faith&Beliefs Obituaries Revels September 4, 2004 Pugh's Muse Sometimes, it's not a pain in the you-know-where Lance Pugh It all began when I was just five years old. We moved to San Diego from Massachusetts, new to the land of palm trees and year-round sun. I jumped and whined until taken to the beach, the ocean seen broad, blue and inviting from our new home with a Pacific view. I frolicked in the surf and built a sand castle, which eventually fell victim to the incoming tide. I used some tanning lotion, but this was in the days before people muttered "SPF" like so many termites in a tree stump. I wanted a tan, just like the lifeguard had. By the time, I got home my skin was lobster red. I spent the night roasting in the sheets, covered with topical ointments, this in a vain attempt to quell the pain and inflammation. Some days later I started to peel, much like a lobster molts, ending up pink and tender in the process. The next phase was a flop back to white ... tan never entered the equation. So it was with mixed emotions decades later that I saw a dermatologist to discuss some scaly issues about the forehead, where the brunt of the solar flair had kissed me the hardest. After a half-hour examination I was pronounced alive enough to pay my bill, this after being handed a prescription for a lotion that promised to soothe my skin and roll back less-kind years. I seldom shop at the big box stores, these acre-plus warehouses of potential possessions that have popped up everywhere. It's not that I don't like "stuff," but I simply don't have a vehicle large enough to load to advantage. Knowing this in advance, I do my shopping, for the most part, locally. Yet my next errand after the dermatologist required me to do some boxing, so into the treeless parking lot I drove, there to swelter my way across acres of asphalt and into Mega-Land. It was while reaching for my rarely used membership card that I came across the dermatologist's prescription, this while noting that a pharmacy resided within the vast confines of the metal structure. Thinking it smart to get several things done simultaneously, I presented my paperwork to the appropriate attendant. I asked if they carried the medication and within seconds she had it in hand, though saying that I'd have wait a few minutes for the requisite paperwork to be accomplished. I looked over towards the delivery window, which was some 20 feet downstream, and asked if I needed to wait in any line. "Nope," chirped the attendant. "Your name will be called out when it's ready, which should be in about 15 minutes." With a feeling full of multi-tasking, I went on to do a modicum of shopping, which, even with my modest agenda, required two flatbed hand trucks, each of which could easily support an entire high-school marching band. Glancing at my watch I lurched back to the pharmacy, there to encounter the mother of all lines. How could so many people get in line during my brief absence? Not to worry, as I was told that my name would be called. This was somewhat the case, as my name would be called after I had reached the beginning of the line, stepped forth and identifying myself, by name. Silly me, I forgot to consider that I would be the one calling my name. After waiting in line for 45 minutes my turn came up and I proceeded to the delivery window, only to be told that I would need to consult with an accredited pharmacist. He asked me if I had ever used the medication, to which I answered in the negative. Yet, as it was to be applied to my forehead with any available finger, I jauntily indicated what I'd do with a free ranging gesticulation. Unbeknownst to me, the medication was far more widely used for afflictions in much more secretive parts of the body, this I gleaned by the way the pharmacist pointed to his neither regions while engaged in a slight stoop and bend. Well, we were like two foreigners trying our best to speak English in the pig-latin district, neither of us understanding the pure and simple truth of the other. Within a few minutes the line had divided into two rows, all in a scrap as to who to back. The pharmacist, insisting that he knew my real condition, increased his voice until the first two ladies in the line fainted. Reveling in my intimate knowledge of the true purpose of the remedy I set to challenge the matter with a flat: "Heads I win, tails you lose." I walked out without the coin being tossed, but the stares I got almost gave me another sunburn. Lance was last seen walking in the shadow of trees, wearing white clothing head to foot, with only a single digit peeking from a cuff. He uses that finger to respond to your enquiries sent to: [email protected]. DailyTidings.com Home Page Valley&State | Backpage | O&E | Sports | Archives | Weather | Classifieds Columnists | Faith&Beliefs | Obituaries | Revels | Subscribe | Contact Us Copyright 2004 Ashland Daily Tidings and Ottaway Newspapers All Rights Reserved Click Here Site Search: .:Advertisements:. RESOURCES - Mail Tribune News - ODOT Road Cams