Permanant Marker

I've never been a fan of pencils. Not even in elementary school. In fact, I was probably the only 2nd grader who had arguments with the teacher about writing with a pen. I guess pencils just weren't permanant enough for me. I didn't like the idea that anything I wrote with a pencil could be erased so easily. So it might seem strange that I've taken a very strong stance against tattoos. Now in the interest of full disclosure, I did flirt with the idea of a tattoo for several years. I knew what I wanted (a quill), where I wanted it (on the curve of my right hip) and why I wanted one (to dedicate myself to a life of creative writing). There was a certain weekend in the summer of 1997 when I was fully committed to driving down to Newport, Rhode Island (tattoo joints were illegal in Massachusetts... damn puritans!) to get permanantly inked. But around this time, when everyone from suburban kids in Peoria to 60-year old grandmothers decided tattoos were cool, I came to the conclusion that they weren't. At least not anymore. I have a cut-off date. If you got a tattoo prior to 1990, then it's cool. After? Not cool. You see, tattoos used to be about nonconformity. Living on the fringe. Not being part of the mainstream. It was about not giving a damn and individualism. Except it wasn't just the tattoo. It was the philosophy, the politics, the fierce resistance to everything mass-produced, mass-marketed and mass-regurgitated. Today, getting a tattoo is no different than having your ears pierced and just as common. Which is why I'm abstaining.