I’ve been around a long long time, and you wouldn’t think I could be surprised by much of anything. In an age of strange and sometimes bizarre stuff, it’s getting harder and harder for me to raise an eyebrow.
Up until recently, the only men (and it was only men) who had tattoos were Navy veterans, hardcore bikers and former prison inmates. And you knew which one was which by what the tattoo said and how to react.
In the first instance, you salute the tattoo that commemorated the battle for Iwo Jima and the very well done flag penned by a Filipino artist for five bucks American. He threw in an introduction to his sister… quite the bargain for an extra three dollars… what a memory to immortalize.
In the case of the Hells Angel guy, only look out of the corner of your eye and move along. Nothing to see here.
The former bank robber with L O V E H A T E across his knuckles and the entire top of his body covered in strange markings? Don’t start critiquing the quality of the artwork. Those were created by a sharpened spoon and some black paint stolen from the prison wood working shop. No eye contact!
But nowadays, it’s hard to find a person (male or female or whatever) who has no tattoos.
It all started with the Millennials. Yeah, I know I’m always on their case, and as always… with good reason.
Years ago when all this began, I was sitting in a bar called Igots near West Palm Beach to see some friends who were playing there. In walks a fairly normal looking couple in their twenties. The girl was an attractive blond, until they sat down.
Her dress, as these things happen, hiked up a bit when she crossed her legs.
One leg was covered in some bizarre artwork that ran the entire length.
When she hits 60 or 70 and puts on a few pounds, it will look like a mudslide rolling over a modern art gallery. Or worse.
Every younger person these days is required to be inked. Problem is, that job at Starbucks or the dollar store doesn’t pay enough to get a quality tattoo.
They must be getting them done by some cut-rate artist. Or maybe a friend got a used tattoo machine from eBay and is trading his “art” for a year’s worth of avocado toast.
Their arms, legs (and sometimes necks!) look like they were attacked by a bunch of first graders wielding black Sharpies. All over the place. Mayhem.
Guess they go well with their man buns and nose rings.
I really have nothing against body marking, but I hate bad art.
My former young employee, and now good friend Anthony, has a beautiful giant tattoo of a mermaid running up his side in full color. He has spent hundreds of dollars having it worked on over years. People are amazed by it. It’s gorgeous art.
It wouldn’t be good if I got a tattoo. Within a few days I would decide that I changed my mind about what it should say. My body would be covered in “X’d out” words.
One thing that blows my mind is the number of police officers who have full arm tattoos-plus. This from an occupation that used to discourage mustaches! Couple of years back during a Senate hearing on TV, I saw a Capitol “officer” in uniform wearing a full neck tattoo and a beard.
I never realized that MS13 folks had day jobs.
Thom Caraccio ([email protected]) is a retired musician and retired motion picture scenic artist living in West Palm Beach, Florida who hails from Columbus. He graduated from S.D. Lee High in 1968 and still considers Columbus his real hometown.
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