For all you youngsters- had to go see one of my Docs today. Spots on my scalp (most of which is no longer adorned by hair) that were looking like they should not. His diagnosis- not skin cancer- YET- but they needed to come off. So out comes the little cannister of Liquid Nitrogen. Zap. (Owtch!) ZAP. ZAPZAPZAPZAPZAPZAPZAP. DANG that stings. Followed a half hour later by the darnedest headache I have had since they quit making straight nitroglycerin dynamite. So now I have a scalp full of blebs- frostbite blisters- where he killed off the skin that was going bad. After a few days of looking like a zombie in bad repair, I'll shed that, and have nice pinky skin like a baby's butt there. But he wants me back in 6 weeks. My Lords and ladies, I seek not your sympathy (although an offer of a beer would not be out of line). Rather, I seek to enlighten, encourage, and to STRAIGHTEN (in the words of Lord Buckley) you young cats and kitties that spend time in the great outdoors, basking in the full unrestricted rays of Sol. In a nutshell- knock that crap off. I spent too much time in the sun, in an era when REAL men did not use sunblock, and I am now paying for that. For those that have not proceeded as far down this trail, go get a hat. And get some GOOD sunblock. Matter of fact, get a few tubes. Throw one in your range bag. So- you still have hair. Big whoop. So did I when I was your age. And the back of your neck, top of your ears, and your nose/forehead need protection. Or give it a few years, and feel the kiss of Liquid Nitrogen- at -321 degrees F. I shall, of course, taunt you. Ow.