The Citizen, 2015-07-30, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, JULY 30, 2015. PAGE 5.
Tattoo. An odd word for which we
can thank the famous Captain James
Cook. He brought it back with
him aboard the HMS Endeavour from
Tahiti in 1771. Scratching away with a quill
pen in his cabin as his ship creaked and
groaned, Cook referred in his journal to a
Tahitian ritual consisting of pricking the skin
with a razor-sharp seashell and filling the
wound with indelible liquid in a deliberate
pattern. Cook called the resulting design a
‘tattaw’.
Not to be confused with your modern
‘tattaw’. What used to be an art form exclusive
to exotic populations has spread to the
shallowest mudflats of mainstream life.
The quality has deteriorated too. The
‘tattaws’ Captain Cook and his crew observed
were elaborate and intricate – works of great
beauty, really. This morning I got served by a
barista with a tattoo of Spongebob Squarepants
on her forearm. Miley Cyrus, that poster girl
for celebrity tackitude, has more cartoon
entries doodled on her corporeal hide than an
edition of the Sunday funnies. There’s a
fashion model by the name of Cara Delevigne
who has the word ‘bacon’ tattooed on the
sole of her foot. Why? “I like bacon,” she
explains.
When I was a pup there were three cliques of
tattoo bearers: sailors, carnival workers and
gents who’d spent time as involuntary guests in
one of Her Majesty’s Correctional Facilities.
And one sub-category – males who were
young, possibly drunk and demonstrably
stupid.
That’s the category I chose. I was on Coney
Island in New York, I was 16 and I’d had a
few beers. It seemed like a good idea at the
time. At least it was original. At my high
school I was one of exactly two students who
sported a tat.
Times change. Now you see tattoos on just
about everyone under the age of 40.
Nina Jablonski, a professor at Penn State
University, says that tattoos are more common
than they ever have been in history. She also
thinks we’re close to the tipping point, tattoo-
wise.
“I think that interest in tattoos will wane as
people get older and see that their 20- or 35-
year old tattoos don’t look nearly as beautiful
as they did when they were freshly done. Also,
tattoos tend to look better on young, taut skin
than on older, wrinkled skin.”
Amen to that. I know a fellow who had
a tattoo of an eagle crushing a snake inked
on to his bicep when he was young and
robust. He’s an old guy now. His once bulgy
biceps are ropey and wrinkled. His eagle looks
like an emaciated crow tangled up in a
clothesline.
It could be worse. Convicted murderer
Nikko Jenkins of Nebraska attempted to
influence his sentencing judge by indulging in
a wee bout of self-mutilation. Jenkins reasoned
(I use the term loosely) that a tattoo on his face
would convince the judge that he was mentally
unstable and hence ineligible for Death Row.
He told the judge that a “serpent god” had
ordered him to carve “the number of the beast”
into his forehead.
Alas, Jenkins performed his self-surgery
using a mirror. Instead of “6 6 6” his forehead
reads “d d d”.
An apt illustration of why tattoos have never
been mistaken for an indication of deep
intelligence.
Arthur
Black
Shawn
Loughlin
Shawn’s Sense
Maybe it has to do with the fact that,
when this paper hits mailboxes, I’ll
have put in a pretty good string of 10
averaging-seven-hour days, maybe it’s just
because of the amount of sun I got walking
around Blyth and refereeing and coaching
soccer in the last week, but I’m about ready for
a break.
Fortunately for me (and likely the quality of
my work and ultimately my editor Shawn who
would have to deal with said potential lack of
quality), North Huron Publishing and The
Citizen are getting ready to close down for our
annual summer break.
While we don’t get two to four months off
like students do (and I can remember those
days like they were yesterday, not seven years
past), we do take a week and a bit off for the
same reason; to regain the energy we need to
get through the rest of the year.
I guess I should say we kind of take a week
and a bit off because events keep happening
even if we’re not putting out a newspaper next
week, so Shawn and I will still be hard at work
covering council meetings, the Belgrave
Summer Festival and anything else that
happens to pop up in that time period, but
being able to sleep in most days is what really
marks a holiday to me.
I have a great holiday ritual that I go through
every year: When I get home from the last time
I have to be in the office, I’ll sit down with a
pen and paper and write out what I have to do
over the vacation.
Sometimes, it’s silly things like not touch
my razor. Other times it’s things I’ve put off
like cutting my hair (that will probably make
this year’s list), however, whatever the task,
I’ve got a good record of completing it.
The list is a modest one. I don’t put on
anything ambitious (like making it to the
cottage) unless it’s something I know I will do
(like, this year, helping a co-worker move in to
town). I like to keep it light because there is
nothing worse than ruining a vacation by
setting up a tiresome list of things you need to
do and having that dictate your entire
relaxation time.
I’ll be cutting the lawn, hopefully looking at
some roofing problems I’ve had, doing some
minor home renovations (or sitting there and
trying to help people do some minor
renovations in my home, I’ve got no illusions
about my skill with power tools), getting some
pets groomed and making time to visit some
friends out of the county.
It’s actually a remarkably similar task to one
that I undertake every couple weeks at work.
Here at The Citizen, we don’t just put out a
newspaper every week.
We also tackle special editions like the
farm section in March, the home and garden
section in May, the Blyth Festival section
in June, the plowing match section in July
and all sorts of special events throughout the
rest of the year. We also put together stories for
Stops Along the Way, the tourism magazine
and, on occasion, do some work for The Rural
Voice.
I’m not a very organized person by nature
(come in and look at my desk if you doubt that,
or just ask Shawn, his desk and mine are like
day and night) so, when one of these special
sections comes up, I put together a list of all
the stories I have to complete, who I need to
talk to about them, and when and where we
will be sitting down to chat.
It helps to keep me focused on what I have to
do.
The list I put together at the beginning of the
vacation, however, serves exactly the opposite
purpose. It helps to remind me of what I
shouldn’t be doing: I shouldn’t be running
myself ragged.
My first summer at The Citizen, I spent a
small fortune on gas during an entire week
visiting friends. It was fun, but when I got back
to work, I almost felt like I had worked the
entire week and a half we were off because I
had spent so much time scheduling, planning
and driving.
The next vacation, I decided I would try to
spend some time at my family’s cottage, but, in
the end, I worked hard to get all my chores and
tasks done and then realized I didn’t have the
time to get to the cottage and really enjoy the
serene surroundings.
Thank goodness for Corner Gas, however.
The television show proved to me that you can
enjoy a vacation just as much even if you don’t
go anywhere.
Coined a ‘staycation’, the show portrayed a
main character sitting in a lawn chair and
communicating with people via post cards (or
verbal post cards, if people didn’t get the
message that he didn’t want to be bothered).
I usually end up doing something similar.
Maybe I sit on my deck and slow-cook some
nice thick burgers and steaks, or sit in front of
an air conditioner and watch stupid movies,
but I always put “relax” at the top of my list
and make sure I accomplish that not just once,
but every day.
It may seem like a small thing but, when you
work for seven, eight or nine hours in a day
then turn around and go to a council meeting,
you can pretty quickly forget what “free time”
means (especially if you’re like me and it takes
you years to say no to people when they ask
for your help with something).
Unfortunately, for anyone hoping to get
anything out of me for the next week and a
half, by the time you read this my list will be
set.
If you’d like, I can give you a preview, but,
keep in mind, this is just a draft:
• Relax
• Get a hair cut
• Groom some pets
• Think about meditating to help relaxation,
but then realize that just isn’t you.
• Listen to some really loud 80s and 90s rock
to help relax (sorry neighbours).
• Get to the lake (any lake really, but
probably Huron).
• Go at least three days without thinking
about any form of soccer.
• Go at least three days without thinking
about a council meeting/issue.
• Help a co-worker move in to town.
• Buy some steaks, cook them and eat them
with some mashed potatoes because you have
time to prepare that.
• Yell at kids to get off your lawn.
Denny
Scott
Denny’s Den
The continuity dream
With all due respect to Dr. Martin
Luther King Jr., and while I don’t,
in any way, intend to infringe upon
his legacy... I, too, have a dream.
My dream is in no way as noble as his, but
it’s my dream, so it can be whatever I want it
to be. My dream is a lovely day, in my mind –
not necessarily weather-wise (in fact,
achieving my dream on a day when weather is
bad may even make it that much sweeter), but
it’s lovely in the way that things will have
changed for the better... forever.
My dream is that one day I will drive
somewhere in Huron County – a distance that
takes longer than 15 minutes to reach, let’s
say – and I’ll engage in a cell phone call that
ends naturally, you know, with one of the two
parties hanging up because the conversation
had run its course.
Currently, the vast, vast (VAST) majority of
my conversations end with those on both sides
of the phone yelling “Hello?” at one another
until my phone finally realizes that it has done
the telecommunications equivalent of having
fallen and can’t get up and mercifully ends the
call for me.
It has gotten to the point where I anticipate
dropped calls. I know dead zones, so I speak in
five-minute bursts, like a seasoned U.S.
Marine veteran, so familiar with his assault
rifle that he knows to shoot in small bursts, lest
he lose his accuracy and reduce his efficiency.
Yes, while cell phone reception is generally
acceptable in most Huron County towns, and if
you’re standing in one place, you’re able to, for
the most part, speak on a cell phone and not
lose the conversation. But if you’re driving
through the county and attempting to do the
same thing (hands-free of course, because to
not do so would be illegal), may God help you.
Much has been made lately about access to
fibre optic cable. Whether it’s through local
internet providers or the Western Ontario
Warden’s Caucus’s Southwestern Integrated
Fibre Technology (SWIFT) initiative, people
have acknowledged that Huron County is
lacking in the world of internet connectivity,
especially in its rural areas. However, I think
maybe we’ve gone straight from 0 to 100
kilometres per hour, skipping right over 60
kilometres an hour, leaving cell service in the
ditch to rot, incomplete and underwhelming.
It has gotten to the point where if I drop a
call with Jess, my mother, my sister or a good
friend of mine who’s in the know, when we do
finally reconnect on the other side of a dead
zone (presumably on the cusp of entering the
next dead zone) conversation just picks up
where it left off. No explanation is necessary –
we all know what just happened.
That, however, shouldn’t be the case.
With all this talk about how those of Huron
County shouldn’t be second-class citizens,
whether it’s high speed internet, industry or
government funding, I think we’ve accepted a
certain level of second-classedness when it
comes to our cell phones and that old school
(now, I guess you could consider it old school)
form of communication where you call
someone on a phone and you hear their voice
on the other end of the line.
If we’ve accepted a reality where our calls
don’t end, they just slowly fade away and die
an unremarkable death, then we’re selling
ourselves short.
So, back to this dream of mine. My hope is
that one day it will come true and that
regardless of whether it’s cloudy, windy,
snowy or the trees are in full bloom, during a
drive from Blyth to Goderich, I can engage in
one long, glorious conversation.
Other Views
Never confuse ‘inking’ with ‘thinking’
Vacation list an important ritual