So how do you feel about tattoos? Are you sporting one? Two? Fifty? Both arms, both legs, your back, up your neck? You're in good company. Lots of people nowadays have tattoos.
I get myself in trouble complaining about tattoos because inevitably when I mention them someone will say, "I have a tattoo," or "my daughter has a tattoo of a battleship on her chest." I'm old school. I know that tattoos don't have the same meaning to younger people as they had to us crusty old codgers. When I was a kid a tattoo was very lowbrow. Sailors got them; Popeye had a couple of them. Guys would have a heart with the word Mom on a scroll underneath, or they'd have their girlfriend's name emblazoned on a forearm.
I have a problem with modern folks who have tattoos up and down both arms. I see people with tattoos registering their little kids for elementary school. Twenty-something moms who look like sailors. Sometimes I'd like to stare. I'd like to say, "Excuse me, young woman, but may I take a really good look at that tattoo of a lizard on your ankle?" "Can I stare at the tattoos on your boobies?"
What I see as the problem is how permanent they are. In a few years tattoos may mean again what they meant to me many years ago: very lowbrow. Some grizzled old geezers, covered in tattoos, will shuffle into the nursing homes of America. They'll be defined by the sagging flesh covered in fading ink. It looked nice when the skin was young and firm, didn't it?
Speaking of young and firm, I found these two ladies on the Damn Cool Pics blog. You can find it by shifting your eyes to the right of this text, and looking at my links. Because of the many, many pictures it can be a slow loader. If you still have dial-up you'll want to pack a lunch. It's worth it, though. You get to see the lengths some people go through to decorate themselves, and also some people you wouldn't want to claim as relatives.
Ciao for now.
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