I’m not a tattoo kind of guy. I have no problem if somebody else wants to get one, or 27. I mean… whatever. But it’s not for me. My ass is not a canvas, thank you very much. Although there’s enough room for a mural. A tattoo artist (are they all named Snake?) might take a look at all that real estate and swoon. But, no thanks.
However, it’s fun to think about what “ink” (I’m very cool) I would’ve chosen at various times during my life. I thought I’d quickly take a shot at three specific ages, and what I suspect would’ve been my choice or choices during each period of my life. Then I’m gonna turn it over to you guys, and hope you’ll do the same.
When I was 10 I know for a fact that this, or something very similar, would’ve been my first choice. I was fully obsessed with baseball, especially the Cincinnati Reds. I went to my first game when I was nine, so I was already experiencing the mania by 10. And the thing about it? I’d still be cool with it today. God knows there could’ve been worse choices.
The only other possibility would be this one, of course. At 10 I was also fully invested in MAD magazine, and all that entailed. Including sarcastic remarks around the house, a cynical view o’ the world, etc. Ahhh… MAD always felt so right. Still does.
By the time I reached 20, I probably would’ve gone with something like this. It might be the first one I regret of my imaginary tattoos. Not that I have a problem with The Clash — I still love them, of course — it’s just the whole idea of having a band logo. Ya know? It’s fairly hack. Or am I wrong about that?
Here’s another possibility from the age of 20. Hey, I’m just basing it on my main areas of interest at the time… For some reason, I went through a period when Rolling Rock was “my beer.” I’m very embarrassed by all of it. The fact that I chose R-squared, as my friend Cambo used to call it, and that I even had a “my beer.” Stoopid. This one I would definitely regret.
And finally, at age 30 there would’ve only been one choice. In fact, it’s the only one I ever actually considered. I used to go out drinking with Mark Maynard and he’d attempt to talk me into it. He had me close a time or two. But come on… As I said, I’m not a tattoo kind of guy. I don’t think I’d COMPLETELY regret this one, though. OK, maybe. It’s hard to say.
What do you have on this? Anything? I know most 10-year-olds don’t get tattoos, but what would’ve been your choice? And keep going up by 10 years, and let us know your thoughts for each era. I could enable images in the comments here, but somebody would upload an extreme closeup of a vagina within four minutes. So, just describe it, if you don’t mind.
And before I call it a day here, I want to direct you to the latest episode of the podcast. Right here. And this is the summary:
In this one, I describe the circumstances that led to me leaving a beloved job in Greensboro, NC and moving to Atlanta — one of America’s most intimidating cities — with no means of support and a horrible apartment rented sight-unseen over the phone. During the first few weeks, I was freaking out, man! I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know.
Here’s a half-assed graphic I made for it… last night, after a few adult beverages (not Rolling Rock):
Have a great day, my friends!
I’ll be back on Thursday.
Now playing in the bunker
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People did not have tattoos back then – unless you were a convict, a biker, a sailor/soldier, or worked in a sideshow. It seems hard to believe now.
Fresh out of Boot camp in January 1980 the tattoo of choice would have been the Marine Corps Eagle, Globe and anchor. However I am not a “tattoo guy”.
Oooooh, let’s see:
10-year-old me had just discovered Anne McCaffery’s series of Pern books. So, there would have been a golden dragon emblazoned on my person, probably right up my back with its wings on my shoulder blades.
20-year-old me was depressed as hell, though didn’t know it at the time. There was, I’m embarrassed to say, a lot of Bon Jovi in my life. Probably would have gone with something to immortalize that.
30-year-old me was in college (I was a late bloomer) and loving the heck out of life. I can see a Georgia Southern eagle going on my shoulder. The old-school eagle, not the “new” athletics eagle.
40-year-old me was on the verge of becoming a CPA and really feeling my independence. I envision “CPA, bitches!” or similar on my forearm. ‘Cuz I thought I was tough.
50-year-old me (yes, I’m that old) would have gotten something to cover some of the sun damage on my arms and hands. A sleeve of many colors and swirly-ness might do quite nicely. But not cover up the “CPA, bitches!”
🙂 to all of this. I bet you still remember your Pern name!
If I had to stick to single-word tatts of things I was into in 10-year increments, it’d probably go something like this:
10 – FAME
20 – MEN
30 – BABIES
40 – FREEDOM
50 – WHISKEY
And I’d regret none of them. I have 2 ‘inkings’ (so cool!) currently, neither of which includes any of the words above, but there is a strong theme of basing them on heart shapes. I’m all about the love!
At 10, it was cars. Maybe a ’65 Vette, or Ferrari, or Lamborghini, or Porsche.
At 20, beer. Either Hacker-Pschorr Weisse, or Krakus (Poland).
At 30, maybe my Suzuki Bandit motorcycle. But I don’t do tattoos.
Stones tongue logo.
Stones tongue logo..
Stones tongue logo.
Never got it.
That’s a lotta tongue. On the other hand, you can’t always get what you want.
John
Jesus, job, I can’t even get no satisfaction.
There’s always tomorrow, but tomorrow goes away. Wild, wild horses we’ll ride them someday.
Sister morphine how long have I been lying here?
Don’t know where all this sadness leads or what’s around the bend; I’m not waiting on a lady — I’m just waiting on a friend.
Oddly enough for the Stones, not particularly interesting lyrics, but nice melody and terrific arrangement . . .
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DltGvCatNwA
Something happens at age 55, particularly to men. One begins to look backward rather than forward. Time travel, tattoo you, pinball machines . . . not a bad thing — just a thing. And everything gets shorter. It’s like approaching the speed of light and experiencing the Lorentz-FitzGerald contraction. Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot.
John
10 year-old me: Probably something “Bicentennial” since I was 10 in 1976…or maybe a Pittsburgh Steelers logo. I was quite a fan back then.
20 year-old me: My wife’s name. We were married the previous year…or possibly something from “Star Wars”. Or better yet–a picture of my wife sporting the Princess Leia “Honeybun” hairdo!
30 year-old me: a bird’s eye view of Ohio Stadium on the top of my head–because my hairstyle is in the shape of the “Horseshoe” ever since I went bald!
But in reality, I don’t want any tats because that’s a decision you can have a lifetime to regret if you happen to choose poorly! For instance, my uncle had the name of a woman on his arm that wasn’t my aunt’s name. We never did find out who she was!
The problem with avoiding risky decisions because they can last a lifetime, is that lifetimes are considerably shorter than young people think they are. There are some old folks who, looking back, regret taking risks, but the vast majority regret taking insufficient risk. Uncle Ed had his first love’s name tattooed on his arm below a heart days before he left for Europe to have a word with Hitler. When he later married my aunt, he just had the name blacked out. He retained the heart as an artifact of the passion of youth.
Like the ecphoneme key, passion can be overexercised, but, as an old guy I notice that the opposite is generally the case. Don’t forget to boogie.
jtb
10 year old would have been something with horses I loved The Misty Of Chincoteague books.
20 years old would have either been something from Rocky Horror or if I wanted to appear smart the unicorn from the Cloisters tapestries
30 Probably would have been my son’s name…
40 (well 42 – 44) Eye of Horus, barbed wire roses, a purple heart with wings and a tribal tramp stamp. I don’t regret any of them yet.
50 Would be a rose, a thistle and a shamrock to represent my British Isles heritage (this is still in the thinking about it list.
60 ??
10 Chicago Cubs logo
18 Eagle head over my heart
18 American flag/eagle combo
19 tribal
27 Tiki god on my back
30 state of WV outline with Flying WV inside it
31 my kid’s name
35 13 pool ball
40(?) I may make the Cubs logo happen after all
50(?) We’ll see when the time comes
No ink yet, nor would I have wanted a tattoo at 10.
20 would have been a peace sign; 30, a few sprigs of lavender.
Today, at not quite 71, I’d consider #resist.
History *sighs*
Or you could get an Obama tat, but then again, your screen name pretty much sums it up. Bwaaaaah!
I’m having technical difficulties, and don’t think I’m going to be able to update the site or the podcast today. Sorry. Both will be up on Friday. The funny thing? I’m fairly calm about all this. It’s weird.
Podcast is now up.