Actually, I've never had an STD. For years, though, I thought that I had.

Listen, and I'll tell.

Early Spring and oh, I had the Itch.

Literally. I would lay in bed at night and cry because I couldn't sleep, so badly did I itch.

Finally, I dragged my sorry, sleep-deprived ass in to the clinic. The doctor didn't even bother to examine me. You could see the wheels of homophobia turning in his smug-ass head as he assessed me.

Gay guy, itch: must be venereal, right?

Scabies, he diagnosed.

As I was leaving the exam room, he leaned forward, fixed me with his eye, and said, in the smuggest, smarmiest possible voice: “And have a blessed Easter.”

Yeah, you too, nazz, and the horse you rode in on.

I schmeered on the prescribed goop, and a week or two later, all was well.

So for years I thought that I'd had scabies.

More the fool, me.

You wouldn't know it from our reputation, but in Winter, the North is a desert.

Deep Winter. With prolonged cold, the air loses all moisture. For all the snow on the ground, it's dry, dry, dry, and all the hot showers in the world won't put back what the cold sucks away.

Some survival strategies as we make our annual journey through the High Desert of Deep Winter.

Keep hydrated.

It's just as important now as it is in High Summer. Dry inside = dry outside.

Keep bathing to a (socially-acceptable) minimum.

Above all, avoid long, hot showers. They feel good short-term, but in the long run they strip away your skin's naturally-occurring protective oils and bring on the Itch.

Love the sponge.

If you can get away with it, alternate showers with high-point sponge baths: pits, crotch, butt, feet.

Sauna.

A good sweat with a quick rinse will get you clean without drying your skin out.

Humidify.

At this time of year, my grandmother used to set out bowls of water on the radiators. Half a century later, I still do the same.

Moisturize, moisturize, moisturize.

You too, guys. You still want to have skin left a few months from now, yes?

We're nomads through time, folks, on our way toward Spring. With hard work and a certain amount of luck, we'll get there with skins still intact.

Note to self: get yourself a gay doctor, OK?