Who Has A Tattoo?

Today, as I was checking out my purchases at my local craft store, I saw that the young woman who was checking me out had tattoos on her arms and upper chest.  I told her I wished that she and I had more time because I would like to ask her about her beautiful tattoos.  I told her that I planned to write a BLOG about tattoos.  She seemed pleased.

She pointed to one of her tattoos, telling me that her dad had always called her and her sister by pet names.  The tattoo was for him, a picture depicting her nickname.

Have you noticed how many of our citizens now have tattoos.  And, I’ve found, they are willing, dare I say anxious, to tell about them.  When I was a child so long ago, people who had tattoos were not well thought of.  In fact, they were considered “bums.”  Not part of the basic population to be respected.  I seemed to carry that thinking into my adulthood, wondering why on earth anyone would damage their skin and appearance with such a monstrosity.

My thinking changed when I read a children’s book in which a young girls asks her dad about his tattoos, and he explains each one.  The book, Tell Me A Story, by Alison McGhee, is beautifully illustrated with the dad telling the stories about all of his tattoos.  Stories about family, life, the military.

Shortly after reading that book, I was shopping at my favorite grocer.  I was close to a young woman, also a shopper, and saw her tattoos.  I asked about them, and she willing explained all of them to me.  At the close of our talk, she thanked me for being interested in her tattoos (and, I think, in her as a person).  She said that not many people older than she, especially those of my age, were at all interested in her tattoos (and, maybe, in her).  I think that conversation started my quest to discover the stories of tattoos.

A teller at my bank told me that the tattoo on his left arm depicted the Colorado mountains west of our city.  It didn’t look finished to me.  There was outline, but no color filled the sketch.  Sadly, he told me that his artist had completed the image and died.  He has yet to find another tattoo artist to finish the job.

Another young man sported a wasp on his arm.  He explained that it was in a song from his favorite music album.

Recently on my sojourn to the West Coast, I talked with several folks showing tattoos.  At the Powell bookstore in Portland, I estimated that at least fifty percent of all of the customers sported tattoos.  Along the way to and from the Coast, I met tattoo wearers at rest stops, gasoline quick-stop locations, and behind the registration counters of motels.

I met Mary at Little America on I-80.  A middle-aged wearer, she was amenable to talking about the tattoos on her arms.  The first one was for her son.  It included his birthdate.  The second for her daughter with her birthdate.  And, the third was, again, for the same son, an EMT who lost his life when he responded to an emergency.

Savannah who checked us in at a Super 8 Motel in Heyburn said her mother allowed her, at fifteen, to have a tattoo – a cat. But, she really likes sharks.  And, now, she has a shark, as well.

There were many young people with whom I talked; but, older people like Mary and Alejandro also proudly wear their tattoos.  At that same Super 8 Motel, Alejandro was checking in after Daughter #1 and I did.  He told me he has three tattoos, but would only show me one.  The one on his upper left arm for his two daughters.  And, now that he has two granddaughters, he was going to have another one for them.

Jessica cut my hair for the first time in years.  Daughter #1, also her client, asked if I would be asking her about her tattoos.  “They are sad,” she said.  As Jessica sniped hair and used her clippers,  she was willing to tell me about the tattoos on her arm.  Her sister was a cancer patient who survived the first attack.  Then, it resurfaced.  At some point, stem cell therapy was in order; Jessica was a 10 out of 10 marker donor for her sister.

One of Jessica’s tattoos represents the stem cell procedure.  Another is of a Japanese symbol for luck – for having survived that first cancer attack; all of the siblings have that tattoo.  And, then, there is the tattoos with her sister’s name and date of her death.  Her sister had given Jessica a bracelet that broke.  So, Jessica had the information tattooed on her arm.  Jessica said is was fourteen years ago.  Yes, sad, as Daughter #1 had said.

Rhi works at the same shop where Jessica is the manager.  She is working toward being able to have her license; Jessica is definitely her mentor.  Between her current jobs as a receptionist / person who clears the floor after haircuts, etc., she had time to talk about her tattoos.  She loves skulls.  Her family goes pheasant hunting Kansas; perhaps, she collects those skulls – I don’t know.  However, in addition to having skull tattoos on her knuckles, she has skulls embedded in large flower blossoms.  The tattoo on her left arm from wrist to elbow is a gorgeous flower.  She loves flowers, as well as skulls.  I wish her well in her chosen field.

In that shop, there were four employees – three licensed beauticians and Rhi who is taking her tests.  Each one of them had one or more tattoos.  That’s one hundred percent compared to the fifty percent, my estimate at the largest bookstore in the world.

After my discussions with these people, so generous with their stories, I wondered what if there was ever a tattoo that the wearer wanted to remove.  So, of course, I went to the web.  I found that removal is possible.  It is not pleasant and, often, painful.  One of my tattoo wearers said that she had another tattoo placed over the first to mute it.

When approaching the folks that I briefly talked with about their tattoos, I always handed them my card and explained that I write a BLOG; and, that one of my BLOGS would soon show up about tattoos and the people who wear them.  I hope that some of them are watching for this article and enjoy what they read.  Thanks for sharing your wonderful stories with me.

Do you have a tattoo?  Do you want to tell me about it?
Be Safe and Be Well
The Cranky Crone
Thoughtful comments are appreciated.