Everyone has a tattoo. Everyone.
Last week, while eating at a small diner in SC, I was talking to a 65 year-old waitress who was overjoyed to show me her new tattoo. It was a small dragon hatching out of its shell and was meant to commemorate the birth of her first grandchild. A week before ,I had to suffer through a muted conversation one aisle over at a book store in Georgia between two female seniors in high school talking about their matching Tinkerbelle tattoos. This has got to stop.
Now don’t get me wrong. I’m all for free expression and the liberty to do whatever it is to your body as you see fit. As long as you are of an age/maturity level to take responsibility for your actions, I’m all for experimenting. That being said, I’m sick of hearing about it. Woo-hoo, you have butterfly tattoo on your ankle. Gee whiz, no one would have ever thought to put a tribal-looking design right above her ass. Ancient Chinese symbols on your back; I bet you’re the first to get those. A bit of barbwire around your bicep? That sure looks tough on your skinny frame.
Look, the reason to get a tattoo used to be because they were slightly rebellious and cool. But now they’re passé. They are the Crocs of self-expression. It’s like telling the world, “Hey, look at me, I would have been cool 10 years ago!” So please, if you get a tattoo, just keep it to yourself. Because the rest of us are bored by your tired self-expression.
My blog contains a large number of posts. A few are included in various other publications, or as attached stories and chronicles in my emails; many more are found on loose leaves, while some are written carelessly in margins and blank spaces of my notebooks. Of the last sort most are nonsense, now often unintelligible even when legible, or half-remembered fragments. Enjoy responsibly.
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
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