The Citizen, 2011-07-07, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, JULY 7, 2011. PAGE 5.
Jews are forbidden to have one; likewise
Muslims and Mormons. Johnny Depp
sports thirteen of them. Brad Pitt settled
for some squiggly lines that could mean
anything Megan Fox opted for a Shakespearian
quotation. Pamela Anderson went for the
classic ‘MOMMY’ on her ring finger. (Used to
read ‘TOMMY’ three marriages ago.) Even
the genius Thomas Edison had one – five dots
on his right forearm.
Tattoos, I’m talking about. The bizarre
practice of perforating our pelts with sharp
tools and filling the wounds with foreign
matter to form designs, slogans or sayings that
stay with us until we die.
(Yes, I have one. Don’t ask. I was a sixteen-
year-old deckhand on a Liberian oil tanker.
Beer was involved.)
Whatever the rationalization, we’ve been
doing it to ourselves since…pretty well
forever. Julius Caesar wrote about the illus-
trated Picts he encountered in the wilderness
of Britannia two millennia ago. The Japanese
have engaged in the practice for at least 10,000
years. And remember Otzi the Neolithic
Iceman whose mummified corpse was
exposed in a melting Austrian glacier a couple
of decades back? Guess what they found on
his leathery remains.
Tattoos. Fifty-seven of them.
Somewhere between Otzi’s heyday and
mine, tattoos acquired outlaw status. They
were a decided rarity when I was a
teenager – only felons, juvenile delinquents
and sailors indulged back then. And aside from
circus sideshows, tattoos for women were
unheard of.
Then it all changed again. About three
decades ago, tattoos suddenly became
fashionable once more – more fashionable
then they’ve ever been, in fact. The U.S. Food
and Drug Administration estimates that
nowadays one out of every three North
American adults under 40 has paid to have
some form of permanent ink injected under his
or her skin.
And the designs aren’t just crude anchors or
a heart with “SUSIE” emblazoned in shaky
italics across it. Tattoos today range from
primitive to surreal; from miniscule to
monstrous. The designs are intricate and often
beautiful and they come in every colour of the
rainbow. The latest fad: “glow in the dark”
tattoos. That’s right – you’ll never need
another flashlight. If you get caught in a power
blackout, just take off your shirt and light up
the room. (Not recommended, by the way.
Nobody regulates the chemicals that make the
‘glow’ which means nobody knows what
they’re doing to the human body.)
The clientele has changed too. Tattoos are
no longer reserved for jailbirds and tars.
Today, teenagers have them and bank tellers
have them. I know an 81-year-old real estate
agent who sports a magenta-winged butterfly
on her shoulder.
This is another thing that’s changed about
tattoos – location. When I got my tattoo there
were only about three areas of the body to
choose from, canvas-wise. You could get your
tattoo on your upper arm, your forearm or, for
the really rebellious – your chest. And today?
People of both genders sport tattoos on their
ankles and necks and ears and foreheads. In
fact, they show up just about everywhere you
can imagine – and in several locations you’d
rather not.
The ex-boxer Mike Tyson opted for a design
that covers most of the left side of his face,
with lacy fingerlets over and under his eye and
toward his mouth. I think the tattoo is
supposed to look mystically aboriginal.
Actually, it looks like somebody branded him
with a red hot salad server.
That reminds me of a story I heard from a
nurse I know. She does (among other things)
operating room prep at the local hospital.
Recently they received a patient for abdominal
surgery. She was a punk rocker with purple
hair, various facial piercings and sundry
tattoos hither and yon.
Including a notice in gothic script that ran
across her lower belly over an arrow pointing
south. The banner read KEEP OFF THE
GRASS.
My friend noticed that the ‘grass’ (i.e., her
pubic hair) had been dyed green.
When the patient awoke following
her surgery she found a note from my
nurse friend scotch-taped to her pillow. The
note read: “SORRY. HAD TO MOW THE
LAWN.”
Arthur
Black
Other Views Stats on tats, writer talks ink
We all deal with pain and hardship in
different ways. Some of us can cope
better than others, and far be it from
most of us to criticize another’s way of making
it through when times get tough.
Look at any sport to see examples of this.
There will always be someone sidelined for a
day and another sidelined for a season by the
same injury.
There is a certain credit that is earned,
however, when comfort is extended from
another who has gone through a similar
experience.
For example, I lost a relationship when my
best friend was killed in a car accident. My
girlfriend at the time, who had never
experienced such a loss, felt I was “taking too
long to get over it.” There is, however, no
getting over the loss of a person in whom you
found a connection. But that was her judgment
to pass.
Had she known what it was like to lose
someone so close, perhaps there would have
been a higher level of understanding.
On the other end of the spectrum, Sonja
Plunkett, who lost her husband Robert, a York
Regional Police Officer in the line of duty in
2007, has recently reached out to the family of
Garrett Styles, a fellow York officer who was
killed in similar fashion just weeks ago.
When that call comes, you listen, because
that is someone who knows what you’re going
through and exactly how it hurts.
When I was robbed at gunpoint years ago, it
was tough to speak about. Similarly to my last
story, I was rushed back to work by a boss who
thought I was “milking it” when I took one day
off work; unpaid.
Several weeks later, the store I worked at
was robbed again and that boss was there. She
left work on a paid leave of absence for six
months, deciding eventually to quit. It was too
traumatic for her, she said, to even set foot in
the store ever again.
There will always be those who feel they
have such vivid imaginations that they can
“just imagine” what something is like. But,
going back to that incident, there will be those
who have actually felt a gun pressed into their
back and there will always be those who think
they must know what it’s like because they’ve
watched a Martin Scorsese movie.
A perfect example, just days after
celebrating Canada’s birthday is Terry Fox.
In the months leading up to his decision to
run across the country, Fox had to “learn the
ropes” of running with his prosthetic leg. He
did so with the help of his high school
basketball coach at the school’s outdoor track.
After taking dozens of hard falls while
learning to run with his first prosthetic leg, a
mother whose children were playing nearby
rushed over and told Terry’s coach to “get that
freak out of here” prompting Terry to continue
his training by moonlight as to not “bother”
anyone who may be out and about.
This woman felt her day was being made so
terrible by Terry, that she had to voice her
opinion. And this young man who had been
through more than many of us could imagine,
took steps to stay out of the way, no matter how
difficult it may have made his life.
And with that fresh in his mind, he began the
Marathon of Hope, enduring injuries, blisters
and pain, even drivers trying to run him off the
road in Quebec, all to raise money for others,
so they might not have to suffer as he did.
In this world, there is always going to be a
Terry Fox and there’s always going to be
someone who thinks watching the one-legged
man fall is the worst thing they could ever face.
The hardest mile
Recently a friend and I were discussing
death and what it meant and we
inevitably got onto the topic of what
we wanted to do before we were shaken loose
from the mortal coil.
Call it a bucket list if you wish, or simply a
list of eclectic life goals, but I realized,
through our discussion, that my TTDBD
(things to do before death) list was a bit on the
odd side right from the get go. Here are a few
of the highlights.
Cut the grass
I enjoy cutting my grass. This may surprise
my neighbours as I know I don’t get to it as
often as I should.
However, before my life is celebrated, or
mourned, or anything like that, I would want
to make sure I had cut the grass.
I see a lot of people invite families and
friends back to their homes to celebrate the life
of their loved ones who have passed and I
certainly won’t be the guy with the uncut lawn
in that situation.
Watch the Leafs take on the Habs
One of the few goals I have in my life is to
go to either Montreal or Toronto and see the
Canadiens take on the Leafs.
It may not seem to be an incredibly
ambitious goal, but I have faith that, for the
one time I would see the teams face off against
each other, my Habs would be in fine form.
Why? All my life I’ve listened to people
who cheer for the Leafs because they’re
geographically close, or because they’re from
Toronto or because their parents cheered for
them or any other plethora of reasons, none of
which include the fact that the Leafs are a
successful team or inspire some kind of reason
for fanaticism.
I’m not down on the Leafs here, every year
they seem to make millions despite having
missed out on Stanley’s glory for decades, I
just want to, once and for all, settle the debate,
and I want to see that with my own eyes.
Live in Scotland
Some people want to travel the world and
visit all kinds of exotic locales.
Not me. I want to live in one locale that I’m
betting most people don’t consider exotic.
According to my family, both family trees
were planted in the loamy soil of Scotland and
then eventually made the trek across the pond
to be here in Canada and I want to reverse that
track.
It’s probably the most long-term of the goals
listed here, but eventually I want to wake up in
Scotland, breathe deep and know I’m home.
I want to spend my weekends visiting the
castles, hop islands to visit Britain and (this is
probably more prominent than it should be)
watch Doctor Who on the continent on which
it’s filmed.
Own a ridiculous car
While some may call my current set of
wheels somewhat ridiculous (my father and
brother have adopted the nickname “Piggy
Bank” due to its size), I feel that I’ve got a
while to go before I own my truly ridiculous
car.
I guess my idea of ridiculous is owning a
vehicle not because of its gas mileage, or its
affordability, but because of some reason
that has no place in the rational thought
process that should accompany a major
purchase.
Whether I’m purchasing some vehicle
because it has an entertainment centre built
into it, because it was once a time machine (oh
yes, I will own a DeLorean DMC-12) or
because it was my favourite Transformer,
someday I want to own a car that I bought
for no other reason than to say, “yes, I own
that”.
Failing that, I may just buy a bigger car than
I have now and get it painted to look like the
Millenium Falcon... or get a Smart Car and
have it painted like the Death Star. One of the
two.
Flying Cars
Okay, so this isn’t exactly something I can
accomplish before I leave the Earth. This is
more something that I just hope I live long
enough to see.
Watching Back to the Future (the entire
trilogy) whenever I could as a child has
definitely had an impact on my life (in case the
DeLorean comment didn’t tip you off).
One of the biggest disappointment, in my
life is the fact that we are now four years away
from when Marty McFly and Doc Emmett
Brown first arrived in the future to see things
like self-drying coats, robotic waiters and, yes,
flying cars as the norm.
I don’t think those advents are going to
come along in the next four years.
Sky dive
There’s a reason this is last on the list, and
that’s probably because of my fear that it will
cause my death.
Sky diving is my Mount Everest.
Other people have told me how they plan on
climbing mountains, or scuba diving, or
something similar, but if I’m going to do
something decadent and exciting, I’m going to
do it in a big way.
I’m going to leap out of a plane, I’m going
feel the force of wind resistance and gravity
duke it out to determine how fast I’m going to
go, and then, at the last possible second, I’m
going to pull my chute and either float safely
to the ground or realize I’m in a Warner Bros.
cartoon and have an anvil accompany me into
the crater that will mark my demise.
Because of what I consider to be a higher-
than-average probability of death, if I ever get
the news that I’m not long for this world, I’ll
probably see a hockey game, cut my lawn, sell
off everything I own and then sky dive until
I’m taken in my sleep or literally leave my
mark on the world.
Shawn
Loughlin
Shawn’s Sense
Denny
Scott
Denny’s Den
The highlights of my bucket list