Closing one shop

The Tattoo Help Desk is now officially closed. In spite of putting up this side project, all the tattoo questions still wound up being directed to this blog. If you do have any tattoo questions, feel free to ask away. I may not tattoo any more, but I still like talking and writing about it.

And the answer to the most frequently googled question about tattoos is this: No, it's not the best idea to get a tattoo when you are sick!

I also need to watch how I use my time. I'm not done with the novel (oh, it's so hard not to put that word in quotes!), but I'm already thinking about novel number two. Plus, I'm going to be getting free books to review from Amazon. I have no idea why I was solicited for this, but I'm pretty happy about it. I'm not going to turn down free books, even if there are some strings attached, like having to read them. I could fake a review, but that wouldn't be right.

Any other business to attend to tonight? I don't think so. Now, I'm going to write a real post.

Side project

This morning a woman called me at 8:30am to ask about tattoos. I have decided to start a side project blog - Tattoo Help Desk. The link is now, obviously, in the links list. Don't bother visiting today, unless you have a tattoo related question that you'd like answered, for the only thing there is the "Welcome" post. More to come, but not here!

Addendum: I wound up staying up late to write some posts for this probably-not-so-side project, so if it's tattoos that interest you, check it out.

"Should I get a tattoo?"

I've got four unfinished blog posts in my drafts folder and a few more in my head. There's just too much to write and think about - Obama's speech last night and McCain's pick of Palin as his running mate both loom large in my mind.

Yet, this post will address something I don't think about much - why a person should or shouldn't get a tattoo. I've had three days of Feedburner analysis of traffic to this blog, and an awful lot of it comes from Google searches like "Should I get a tattoo?"

I don't want knowing that to change what I write about, but since the entry called "Why you should not get a tattoo" keeps getting hits (and it was not meant to be "advice"), I figured I needed to write more about this topic.

My gut reaction, as an ex-tattooist and a heavily tattooed person, is that if you need to ask strangers whether or not you should get a tattoo, you should not do it. On the other hand, if you do get a tattoo and live to regret it, it's not a big deal (unless you've put it on your face). Most people who are tattooed forget that they even have tattoos. My left arm is completely covered in tattoos and I do not notice it. To me, it's just my skin.

I once read a comment from Henk Schiffmacher (aka "Hanky Panky"), a long-time tattooist and tattoo historian, who said "tattoos are all about regrets." I thought this statement, and some of the reasons he mentioned for believing that, were dead on.

Tattoos are our lives permanently etched into our skin. It doesn't matter if you have a tiny little flower or a full sleeve in this respect. Whenever you look at your tattoo and really see it (for as I mentioned, you will indeed stop noticing it after a while), you will always think of the day you got it, or if not that specifically, at least the general time period. Looking back is always filled with regret of some kind. If you got that tattoo when you were 18, you'll think of your youth. You may still feel fine about the image or not (and if you don't, there's yet another regret), but either way, you are challenged to live with your past through the tattoo.

The power of the tattoo as an anchor that ties us to our past is powerful. There's not much in this society that can do that. We are a society in which almost anything we've done can be undone, mistakes atoned for and forgiven, and lives changed at whim. We can remake ourselves very easily - change our names, move thousands of miles away to places where noone knows our history, have multiple careers and marriages and incarnations, but our tattoos are still with us. Even if you get your tattoos lasered off (which few people actually do), you'll bear the scar.

I've often wondered why tattoos have become so popular. I think there are two significant reasons (though I'm sure there are more than these). The first one is that I think a lot of people have a deep seated need for ritual that mark passages in their lives, and that tattoos serve that need. The other reason is that tattoos do keep people aware of the choices they've made in their lives, and even if we don't consciously want to be reminded that, say, once we were such avid dope-smokers that we tattooed pot leaves all over our bodies, we unconsciously do want to be reminded of where we've been, so we can either stay that way, change or at least honor our lives.

So, even though I reflexively say "don't get a tattoo if you have any reservations", a part of me thinks "go right ahead. It's no big deal." I'd caution against tattooing parts of your body that can not be covered up, for there still are people who will judge you immediately and even if that's "not right", it's a fact of life. Why should one tattoo keep you from getting a job you want? Some people might say of me that I'm too conservative on this point, but seriously, I think it's somewhat childish to not see that a tattoo in a highly visible place is sending the message "I think I'm different from the norm." The person interviewing you for a job does (usually) not want to know this. That's reality. Would you show up for a job interview in pajamas? You may say this is a stretch of reasoning, and it is, but it does amount to pretty much the same thing.

We may value individualism in this society, but only up to a point.

Now that I'm coming to a close on this post, I realize that I do indeed have plenty to say about tattoos, even though I don't practice the art any more. I think it's important, perhaps, that people without the agenda of selling you a tattoo answer questions about them. And to the woman who googled "Can I get a tattoo when I'm sick?" I want to say "Yes, but it's not a good idea." If you want to know why, leave a comment. I'm done for now.

Photo note: Thanks, Eric, for letting me tattoo this image exactly the way I envisioned it.

What I used to do

Earlier today, a guy came over my house to buy some tattoo equipment. Have I ever mentioned once on this blog that I used to be a tattooist? I'm not sure if I have. That in itself is interesting (at least to me).

I started tattooing in 1995 and stopped on October 31, 2007. On the first of November I packed up everything in my small studio, threw it in the back of my car and Dick's truck, unloaded in into an unused room in my house, closed the door behind me and didn't look at it again until today.

I haven't even thought about tattooing. Twelve years of my life spent permanently marking peoples' skin, listening to their stories and telling stories of my own - suddenly it was all over with and it almost felt like it never happened. The only reminder I've had is my own skin, covered with tattoos.

I keep myself well covered. There are people I know who have no clue that I'm heavily tattooed. It's not that I'm ashamed. It's just that it isn't what I want people to see me as, nor do I identify much with the tattoos I have. They tell you very little about me, which may seem odd, but the reason behind most of my tattoos is that I wanted to learn how a particular artist worked. One way to do this is to watch, but the best way to do it is to get tattooed.

And the very best way to learn is to let them do exactly what they want (which reminds me, I have written about tattoos before, in the entry about why you shouldn't get one).

The fellow who showed up today mainly wanted to buy flash, the ready-to-go tattoo images that one usually sees on the walls of tattoo studios. I have books and books of this stuff, even though I tended to do custom work. He couldn't afford to buy the whole lot, so we sat down on the floor and went over each book, page by page. I told him which ones had been popular and which ones were not. With each suggestion came a memory or two (or three or four, depending on just how popular that image was).

The guy's shop is about two hours from here, further north, up near the paper mills and right at the edge of hours of unpeopled timber land. Evidentally, what's popular here is not up there (with some exceptions, but still, it was noticeable). He had no interest in the Bartels flash, stuff that is akin to celtic knotwork but made to look like stone. I practically made a living off that stuff. It was perennially in demand,and transcended any fads. I never minded doing it even if it was flash, for I always did it differently. I loved how I could mess with it in a myriad of ways, depending on what I thought the customer would want, and I would do this without asking questions. It was some sort of litmus test for me to gauge how well I could read a person, and I suppose I was very good at reading people, judging from their reactions.

For some, I did it straight out of the book, in black and gray and looking like crumbling stone, no fooling around. Others got a hint of color. Some wound up looking like pounded metal. It could be made to look like turquoise or lapus lazuli, or even glowing jade. It was always fun. If I could have tattooed with that much freedom all the time, maybe I wouldn't have gotten burnt out.

It's funny how I say that was pure freedom, for I wasn't drawing up my own stuff. From the beginning of my career as a tattoo artist, I wanted to do custom work and had quite a bit of disdain for flash. Ready-made tattoos? Who wanted that? Only fools with no imagination.

What I discovered is that designing custom work was usually more trouble than it was worth. Sometimes I would spent days drawing something up for someone only to have them never show up again. Getting a deposit in this neck of the woods was next to impossible.

I would belabor every piece of custom work I got, trying to find the absolute perfect image, when the truth of the matter is that most folks wouldn't have known the difference if I had settled on the first thing I drew up. On the other side of the coin were the people who were never satisfied, acting like dictatorial art directors without a shred of taste.

One time this couple came in and wanted me to draw up Yosemite Sam holding a diver's helmet. Simple enough, right? Ha. I spent hours on that stupid image. The wife kept asking me to move the arm holding the helmet until the piece of paper was hopelessly smudged and dirty from erasing and drawing, erasing and drawing. At that point, nothing would have looked good. Then I heard her whisper to her husband, "She can't draw. Let's go."

Normally I stayed calm and was polite. But by the time I heard her whisper, I was ready to wring her neck. "Why don't you sit down and draw it?" I said to her, "Go right ahead. Have a seat!" I was standing up, staring her in the eye. Oh, how I wanted to get into a real fight. But they just left, the husband looking kind of sheepishly embarassed. No doubt she gave everyone in her wake crap.

I didn't want to tattoo that image anyway. I may be covered with silly tattoos, but they pale in comparison to some of the truly idiotic things people come up with.

That was probably what got me in the end, all those stupid images. Or maybe it was simply the repetition of them. Y'know, I never minded tattooing a Tazmanian Devil. One time I did a huge one with pot leaves flying out from his whirling frenzy. That was a treat, a respite from all the wolf heads, feathers, sports logos and endless parade of the names of peoples' children that are popular in this area.

The worst, for me, was black tribal armbands. They are boring. They are the epitome of boring. No matter how creative you are, they all look the same (at least the kind folks wanted). And they are a royal pain in the ass. You ever hear that it's considered bad to have an armband that wraps around your entire arm, that according to Indian lore it traps the spirit?

It's a lie made up by tattooists. No tattooist in their right mind wants to do a full wrap black tribal armband. First of all, most of the time it's done on a guy who has a big biceps muscle. He probably has a good tan on it, for he either works outside or gets a lot of sun 'cause he likes to show off his big arm.

So, you got one side of the arm with nice taut skin that's a bit tough. The underside is a whole 'nother ball game. It's often soft and spongy and very white or it has a big gully in it that's hard to work in. One side is easy to tattoo and is the least painful place on the body to get one. The other side has every thing a tattooist hates. Impossible to get taut. Might even have stretch marks if the guy built his muscles too fast. And then there's the fact that it hurts like hell. And y'know, the bigger the guy is, the more of a wuss he is. It's almost always true.

And lastly, guys with big muscles aren't very flexible. Getting to the underside of their arms is quite a task. I would usually put them in the "now I'm gonna ask you the hard questions" position: bent over, arm behind the back and pulled and twisted as far as it would go. I came to discover it was easier to lay 'em on a table to tattoo this spot, but the sadist in me said anyone who wanted a stupid black tribal armband deserved to be twisted into a pretzel.

One shop I know had a sign that read "If you want a full tribal armband: $150 extra. Two weeks notice." I wish I could have pulled that one off. Instead, I just began telling people I didn't do 'em. No Indian folk stories, just the truth. Go somewhere else. I've had enough.

I suppose I had enough of everything. One day I noticed I had a reason not to do almost every tattoo request that was made of me. I started slacking. My machines wouldn't do what I wanted them to do. My hands hurt. My back hurt. My eyes hurt.

Today, I enjoyed talking shop with another tattooist and wondered if I'd ever do it again. I still think the answer is no.

Photo note: If I had gotten more work of this nature, I may have never stopped tattooing. The guy wanted the golden ratio and liked the "non-tattoo-y" work that I sometimes did. If I lived in a high population area, I could have specialized, but no, I live and worked in Bumf*ck, Maine, and so, along with everything I mentioned above, I had to do unicorns, cute dragons and argue with people about the fact that a tattoo didn't have to have a black outline and that I actually meant to not color it in solid.

Why you should not get a tattoo

I take requests for posts and one of them was to write about why one should get a tattoo and/or why one shouldn't. As a generality, I think there's no reason not to get a tattoo if you want one, but for fun, I thought it would be more amusing to write about why you should not.

You should not get a tattoo if you're planning on putting it on your lower back, to look cute with a bikini or above your jeans. If you are a man, I might say this is okay, but at this point, that placement of a tattoo is just another "tramp stamp" or the lovely "trailer trash tail light". If you feel inordinately proud of being white trash, go ahead and do it. Please consider the stretch factor of this placement, for it will look completely different depending upon what position you are in. A wolf's head might look fine when you are standing up but will be completely distorted when you bend over. The same with a sun, which seems to be a popular choice for this body placement. You can't see it, but it looks like crap when you aren't stock straight. If you want a butterfly with black tribal work around the edges, your tattooist will think very little of you, for he or she has done this one or two many times. Please do not bring in decals that you bought at Hot Topic. Four hundred people before you have done the same thing and they are way too small to tattoo properly anyway.

Do not get a tattoo in any place that can be seen by others. You may not live to regret it, but you probably will. It may be true that tattoos are more acceptable these days, but they are still a liability when you apply for most jobs.

Do not get a tattoo if you have any personality trait that leans towards perfectionism, or if you do, go to the best, most expensive tattoo artist you can find, and make sure that s/he does work that you admire. Otherwise, you will live with a tattoo that you will be constantly judging for the rest of your life. This rule also applies to you if you are an artist.

Do not get a tattoo immediately upon finding out bad news about anything. Memorializing bad memories is not good for your mental health.

Do not get a tattoo of anyone's name. You have heard this one before, I'm sure, but you'd be surprised at how most people think they are exceptions to the rule and that their particular love story will last forever. I'm sorry, but if you need to tattoo that special someone's name on you, you probably have a smaller chance than normal of staying together. Additionally, do not get a tattoo for anyone else, even if it does not include their name. If the request is prefaced by the words, "If you really loved me. . ." head for the hills, forget the tattoo and reconsider who you are dating (or are married to).

Do not get a tattoo to prove something. If you are a man, unless you are in a gang and it's mandatory, do not get a tattoo that is supposed to make you seem more macho. If you are a woman, do not get a tattoo that flaunts your anger at gender specific imagery (like getting a typically macho tattoo). I should know about this last one. I have not one "feminine" tattoo and when I see a woman with a full sleeve that's filled with beautiful flowers, I really wish I had the money for laser removal. My left arm is totally covered with stylized flames (and a bunch of other crap, like most tattooists).

Do not get a small tattoo on a large area unless you are absolutely sure you will never want another tattoo. People who want their arms sleeved usually have a bunch of garbage that tattooists have to work around or cover up. Also, if you are a man and you have a tiny tattoo on a big body part, you might as well be wearing a sign that reads "I am a wimp."

Do not get a tattoo to show that you are a unique individual, for if you do, you are doing the same thing as a lot of other unique individuals, thus proving you are not. If you are hell bent on pursuing this line of reasoning, "I have a tattoo, therefore I am unique", look through all the tattoo magazines, the photos in tattoo shops and ask your tattooist if they've done your oh-so-very individual tattoo before. If they say yes, think of something else. If you can't. walk away.

Similarly, do not get a tattoo because you want the world to know how much you like something. Go get a t-shirt. That way, when you're sick of Godsmack or cute fairies, you can stop wearing them and move on to whatever your new interest is, if any.

Do not get a tattoo for any reason. What the hell is the point? If you want to memorialize a moment in your life, you have many other options, like writing it down, taking a photograph or the least work of any option: just remembering it.

If you are getting a tattoo because you like the artists' work, buy a painting. If you get sick of it, you can take it down.

The truth is, if you do get a tattoo, you will stop noticing that it is on you very quickly, so none of the reasons not to do it matter much except for other peoples' judgments. If you really want to do it, go right ahead. Please be smart and pick a tattoo artist well. Make sure you see photographs of their work (and that they are indeed photos of their work and not cut from a magazine). Better yet, go to someone whose work you've seen in person. Do not try to convince a tattooist to do something that they advise against or have any objections to, especially if they've told you it is ugly or say they've being doing an awful lot of the same thing lately. Drive, take a bus or fly to someone whose work you admire. Remember, you are not getting a haircut. This is permanent, so spending the extra time or money to go a long distance for your tattoo makes sense. Think of it like heart surgery. If you lived in a small town that had only the local doctor, would you go to him for heart surgery because you don't want to expend the time or energy to go elsewhere? I think not.

But really, why are you getting a tattoo, anyway? As a heavily tattooed person and an ex-tattooist, I have forgotten the reasons why it once seemed important. And now I can't wear flowered shirts because they clash with my left arm.

Image note: Tattoo flash, artist unknown, circa 1940. This reminds me that about half of the drawings of the American flag have the colors of the stripes in the wrong order. The stripe that is underneath the stars should be white. I found this out the hard way. I did a large tattoo on a man's forearm that was of an eagle with a big, tattered flag fluttering in the wind behind it. This man was ex-military and even brought in a flag for me to look at (did he think I was from another country or something?) Anyway, the flag in the image was very confusing, for it had many folds and was all ripped up, so I took a permanent marker and put a big red R in every stripe that was to be red. I asked the man to double check it himself, to be absolutely sure that I had it right. The thing about tattoos is that I couldn't put the red in right there and then, because you need to put the black in first so you don't muddy up the colors.

Well, four hours later the tattoo was finished and it looked great. I bandaged him up, got paid and thought I'd had a good day. Twenty four hours later or so I got a call from this guy. He sounded distraught. He didn't come right out and say what he was upset by, but instead asked me, "Can you cover up red with white ink?" I answered him, "No, it just comes out pink." Then he started to half cry, half yell at me. The stripes were not in the right order. There was a red stripe under the stars. But we had marked the stripes! Nonetheless, he started talking about the possibilities of laser surgery and I got nervous. That's quite an expense and I didn't want the bill. So, I offered to give him his money back, of course (though many tattooists would not have) and apologized. I added, "If you don't point it out to people, they will not notice." But he didn't think so, especially around his military friends.

I really felt for this guy. It was his only tattoo and it was screwed up. I was curious, however, as to how much of my flash had it right. It turned out that about 55% percent of it was wrong. So, I started asking military people, when they came in, to look at flags and tell me if they looked okay. Not one person ever identified the flags with the incorrect stripes. I think back on that man, who sounded like he was going to cry, and hope that he hasn't spent all these years pointing out the mistake to others. It was a good tattoo and people just don't look that closely or even know. Ask someone and see if they know the answer.

Some things are illuminated

As I watched the old man nod his head, a wan smile crossing his face, I knew he knew, too, that there are 400 words for schmuck in Yiddish. And in that moment, listening to some of these words; schmuck, putz, schlamazel, schlamiel, a wry smile crossed my face, too. Some things were illuminated, like why I didn't get good ol' american rock n' roll, rockabilly or shockabilly, until I had lived here in the boondocks, amongst the goyim (yes, I said that) for almost twenty years.*

When I went to the Dunstable Tattoo Convention in England I met an Israeli tattoo artist who was desperately looking for work in Europe. He was spit upon outside of his shop, for tattoos are frowned upon by Jews. The bible's laws pertaining to making permanent marks upon or in the skin are hazy at best. The injunction is mostly against making marks which are akin to idolatry. Interestingly, this would make all the religious tattoos the worst offenses. But this Levitican law became more intense after the holocaust, because of the tattooing of inmates in the concentration camps.

So, I was in England and hit it off with this Israeli tattoo artist. I said I was Jewish, too. Being a Jewish tattooist is not so common (though I have no statistics for this!) When I first opened my studio ten years ago, I got a tourist from Seattle who came to me simply because he heard I was Jewish. His grandfather, he said, would be rolling over in his grave if he knew he was getting a tattoo. His grandfather had opened the first bagel shop in Seattle. I wish I knew what it was called.

Another time I did a cover-up on a guy who had a swastika on his back. He had been a neo-Nazi when he was young and disavowed it. I have no idea what I covered it with, but I did a nice job and we engaged in pleasant conversation. When I was done, while bandaging him up, I said "My dead ancestors would be happy that I've done this." When he asked why, I told him I was Jewish. He blanched and said, "Why didn't you hurt me more?" I laugh as I think of this. I had not occurred to me to do anything of the sort.

One very late night a fellow came in and asked me if I did touch-ups. Sure I did. He rolled up his sleeve and there I saw a big swastika with some words about white supremacy under it in a banner. I thought I misheard him. "Oh, you want a cover-up, not a touch-up" said I. "Hell no" was his reply, "I want it to be better." When I told him I wouldn't do it he stepped back and looked me in the eye, saying, "Are you some kind of Jew or something?" I stared back at him and said only one word: "Yes."

That man looked like he was thinking about what manner in which he might kill me and whether to do it on the spot or at a later date. Obviously, he did nothing but turn on his booted heel and leave. I was foolish, no doubt, but I have a nasty habit of speaking the truth.

But what truth is this? What makes me Jewish? I have no belief in god. I didn't grow up with any religion. Even my grandparents did not practice Judaism. But some piece of paper somewhere said that my mother was Jewish and her mother before her, and therefore, in the eyes of Israel, I am a Jew. I could go live there and become a citizen (not that I would). But this fact amazes me (and also bothers) me.

What makes me say I'm Jewish, when I don't believe in race or religion or identity politics and would prefer to think of myself as just a human being like everyone else? It has always been this: if I disavowed my Jewish heritage I would be killing off another Jew, as marginally Jewish as I am. It would be like one more person was put in the ovens. So many were killed (and not just in the holocaust).

I heard stories when I was a kid. My family, both sides, came to this country before the turn of the century. But they, too, were running away from horrors. One relative said he was the only survivor of his village at the Western edge of Russia. He said, in a steady tone, that when he was a boy, he returned from a trip to another village and as he was coming over a hill, he could see his small town burning. These were the pogroms, where whole towns and villages of Jews were being systematically killed all over Eastern Europe and Russia. The German's holocaust was nothing new.

I decided when I was sixteen to say I was Jewish only if someone said something anti-semitic, for without that, it meant nothing to me at all. In a sense, a sense that I've always hated, it has been anti-semitism, the pogroms, Hitler, neo-nazis and ignorance that has kept me from saying I am an atheist, practicing buddhist american. Being defined by negatives is not pleasing to me, but I feel obligated.

I have no idea what I would have done if I had had children. What would I have told them? And what if they had embraced Judaism? I shudder at the thought. There is nothing in this religion that speaks to me in the least. That's the worst part about my dilemma (and it is a dilemma).

I suppose I am what people call a secular or cultural Jew. I use Yiddish words, Yiddish inflections and have a Yiddish sense of humor. I like traditional "Jewish food" and know how to cook some: matzoh ball soup, tsimmes, latkes and the noodle casserole whose name I've forgotten. But that ain't much of an identity. People who have no Jewish backgrounds use as much or more Yiddish than I do or cook more eastern European food.

This post was directly caused by my watching a movie tonight (see footnote). Afterwards, I realized that it is precise to say that the major reason I did not get along with the Cramps was because I was a "New York Jew". Period. I did not have the cultural references to have fun with amerikan kulture. When I went on tour with them, i was excited, for I'd seen very little of this country. I'd been to Maine, Massachusetts, New Jersey, Connecticut (passing through), London and Amsterdam. The idea of seeing Akron, Ohio really excited me. I had no idea what middle america was all about.

Since I write off the top of my head, I don't know where my posts are going to wind up. Well, this one isn't going to wind up anywhere. It has no conclusion. I'm stopping dead. More on this to come, I'm sure.

*These are some of my reactions to watching the film, "Everything is Illuminated", the funniest "heavy" movie I've ever seen. And the word goyim means non-Jewish people. Goy is the singular. See if you get this joke:

So, a goy calls up his mother and says "I can't make it to dinner this sunday". His mother says, "That's okay."

Photo note: A scene from "Everything is illuminated". I won't give away what it's about.