While walking on the beach yesterday, John and I were treated to a special exfoliating pedicure. The newest luxury exfoliator:
Tar! (I put in the bottle cap for size reference. This was a small to medium sized tar pool.)
It’s such a good exfoliation method that it doesn’t even come off your feet. It just clings stubbornly to the skin, giving you a whole new shiny epidermal layer. Apparently the best way to get it off is baby oil (that’s what she said), which John finds ironic because it was the oil companies who were likely responsible for the snotty black tar puddles that washed ashore, and now they get the dollars from people trying to get their tar boogers off their feet.
The beach was awash in tarballs large and small, from pea-sized to mini-tar pit sized. It made feel like Littlefoot in The Land Before Time.
Apparently most Floridians are used to it, though the beaches over here haven’t had tarballs in quite a few years.
According to a news article, authorities said it probably wasn’t dangerous, but not to get it on your skin. Getting it on one’s skin was all but unavoidable. And who’s going to tell all the animals? I had a heck of a time getting that crap of my feet; I can only imagine what a handicap and nuisance it is for all the poor animals getting it caught in their feathers, scales, or orifices. Not to mention I bet most pharmacies won’t sell them baby oil.America, animals, less food-related, oil spill, tar, tarballs