Recently, I've been wrestling with the idea of getting a tattoo.
Now, I'm not a tattoo guy by nature. I don't really know what a "tattoo guy" is, other than a guy with tattoos. There sure seems to be a lot of them around, too. They seem to be quite comfortable with their colorful, skin-deep images of brain-eating zombies, obscure Japanese calligraphy, and squiggly interlocking tribal symbols that speak of the bearer's primal lifestyle which includes sleeping in stone huts, eating raw meat from the bone, and fending off woolly mammoths with clubs.
Mocking tone aside, I actually admire them, those tattoo guys. They ooze confidence, assertiveness, and style. And the level of artistic skill and imagination in much of the tattoo work today is as professional as any art form today.
Read on...
So, I made the mistake of mentioning to my wife that I was thinking of getting one. Of course, she wanted to know what type of image I wanted so she could be reassured I wasn't considering a pointy boobed pin-up girl. Or worse, the word, "Mom." No, I was clear on what I wanted. No zombies, Kanji, or tribal armbands: I wanted a badger branded somewhere on my body (no, not there.) To my surprise, she said, "Sure."
Dammit.
At this point, rather than simply fantasizing about a tattoo, I had to consider actually getting one. She was even willing to chip in a "fitty" to help with the cost. My steely-eyed better half had stared me down across the table and called my hand. So I did what any self-respecting man would do in this situation: I asked a buddy what to do.
"Awesome! Get a tribal arm-band!" he said. Unfortunately, I couldn't punch him because like most men, he's bigger than me. I later learned that he was kidding, of course. But he did think a tattoo was a great idea for me. He has three himself, so I'm sure there's a direct correlation between the number of tattoos a person has and the degree of enthusiasm he has for his friend to get one, too. So, we talked at length about what type of badger should I get.
Should he be cute, like my logo?
No. Not unless I like getting beat up.
Should he be menacing?
No, I don't have the cred it takes to pull that off.
What about somewhere in between, like the mascot for the University of Wisconsin Badgers?
Nah. Wisconsin is too cold for me. Yes, that matters.
So, in the end, I chose to buy a pair of headphones.
That's not me in those headphones. That's a professional model. But those are my headphones.
I don't regret my decision at all. I will never get beat up because of my headphones, and they will never send the implicit message of "Don't f*** with me!" which invariably forces you to back up the claim with some sort of aggression. They also will never make me cold.
Back to the drawing board.
Now, I'm not a tattoo guy by nature. I don't really know what a "tattoo guy" is, other than a guy with tattoos. There sure seems to be a lot of them around, too. They seem to be quite comfortable with their colorful, skin-deep images of brain-eating zombies, obscure Japanese calligraphy, and squiggly interlocking tribal symbols that speak of the bearer's primal lifestyle which includes sleeping in stone huts, eating raw meat from the bone, and fending off woolly mammoths with clubs.
Mocking tone aside, I actually admire them, those tattoo guys. They ooze confidence, assertiveness, and style. And the level of artistic skill and imagination in much of the tattoo work today is as professional as any art form today.
Read on...
So, I made the mistake of mentioning to my wife that I was thinking of getting one. Of course, she wanted to know what type of image I wanted so she could be reassured I wasn't considering a pointy boobed pin-up girl. Or worse, the word, "Mom." No, I was clear on what I wanted. No zombies, Kanji, or tribal armbands: I wanted a badger branded somewhere on my body (no, not there.) To my surprise, she said, "Sure."
Dammit.
At this point, rather than simply fantasizing about a tattoo, I had to consider actually getting one. She was even willing to chip in a "fitty" to help with the cost. My steely-eyed better half had stared me down across the table and called my hand. So I did what any self-respecting man would do in this situation: I asked a buddy what to do.
"Awesome! Get a tribal arm-band!" he said. Unfortunately, I couldn't punch him because like most men, he's bigger than me. I later learned that he was kidding, of course. But he did think a tattoo was a great idea for me. He has three himself, so I'm sure there's a direct correlation between the number of tattoos a person has and the degree of enthusiasm he has for his friend to get one, too. So, we talked at length about what type of badger should I get.
Should he be cute, like my logo?
No. Not unless I like getting beat up.
Should he be menacing?
No, I don't have the cred it takes to pull that off.
What about somewhere in between, like the mascot for the University of Wisconsin Badgers?
Nah. Wisconsin is too cold for me. Yes, that matters.
So, in the end, I chose to buy a pair of headphones.
That's not me in those headphones. That's a professional model. But those are my headphones.
I don't regret my decision at all. I will never get beat up because of my headphones, and they will never send the implicit message of "Don't f*** with me!" which invariably forces you to back up the claim with some sort of aggression. They also will never make me cold.
Back to the drawing board.
