I have a cousin who is about 178 years old who had a swallow tattoo from when he was in the military during world war 2. I can remember the fuzzy blue outline and how faded it looked and still thinking it was so cool, in the web of his hand between his thumb and forefinger about the size of a golf ball. This may be where it all started for me. I have also had a life long affinity for the Hells Angels (yeah I know I'm weird!).
In high school I desperately wanted to get a tattoo. After I graduated two of my buddies and I headed down to Mesa and stayed at my Grandma's place at 3 Fountains for like two weeks. Somewhere around 8th Ave. and Stapley there used to be a tattoo shop in this old yellow house. I was so ready to go in there, lie about my age (I was 17) and get the most RAD Sparky tattoo ever. But the shop was always closed. It wasn't until later that I figured out that most artists are nocturnal and of course us small town boys didn't drive around too much in the big city at night. Anyway I'm sure it saved my unspoiled canvas from a really crappy apprentice tattoo that looked more like Ben Affleck as Daredevil than a beloved university mascot. Such is life!
Anyway knowing that there are quite a few people in the family with tattoos, and probably a few I don't know about, I am still craving my first. Which I'm sure would lead to who knows how many others. Personally I wouldn't mind having full sleeves. My dad is working on his, like father like son? I know that will will thrill Eliza!
ANYWAY this novel is coming to an end, here's a shot of something similar to what I would like to get done on my calf:
1 comment:
Yeah, I get it ok, you like tattoos, but just because we like something doesn't mean we should do it. And maybe there was another reason that tattoo shop was always closed...maybe somebody else didn't want you to get one.
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