Harry’s Adventures: Bearly noticeable
Yes, it hurts.
Next question.
Why?
My tattoo artist, the talented Michael Patrick of Dormont, says he doesn’t get too many clients like me, in their mid-50s. That’s not really a surprise. Way back when, pretty much the only people you saw inked up were bikers, ex-cons and servicemen.
So by the time everyone seemed to start getting tattoos, folks my age were way beyond the stage of “Yeah, paying good money to get permanent marks on my skin is a good idea.”
Yet, I occasionally would get the urge. I grew up seeing the ornate eagle on my dad’s bicep from his Army days in pre-Castro Cuba, and I guess I always thought that was kind of cool. The closest I came to taking the plunge probably came during a music festival in upstate New York. (No, not Woodstock. I wish.) But having it done at a makeshift booth in the middle of a field didn’t seem like a shrewd move. Michael’s Milestone Tattoo Studio, though, is a nice, clean, well-organized venue, a place I would trust, especially considering that one of my sons is a loyal customer.
And so on the day of January’s second full moon of the month – coincidence? – there I sat in his chair, ready for …
Ow.
You’ll notice I punctuated that interjection with a period instead of exclamation point, reflecting the level of pain, or relative lack thereof. “It doesn’t hurt as bad as a hypodermic needle,” I told Almanac sports editor Eleanor Bailey, who was chronicling the proceedings with her camera. “Instead of a quick puncture, it kind of digs a bit, but understandably so. My whole thing is, if you know what to expect, then, hey.”
And, as Michael mentioned to me, the upper arm – yes, the same place as Dad’s – isn’t a bad place as far as relative discomfort.
The whole process took about an hour, and a steady stream of conversation kept my mind from focusing too much on the dentist drill-like sound of Michael’s machine as he applied the ink. “People have a tendency to want to just talk it out when they’re here,” he explains. “It’s therapeutic. The more you talk, the easier it is. The quicker it goes.”
Still, I was eminently relieved when he announced he was almost finished. And a few minutes later, I was excited to look in a mirror and see a superb rendering of a festive red, blue and yellow bear.
Oh, about that …
In 1973, an artist named Bob Thomas came up with a series of dancing bears to illustrate the cover of the album “History of the Grateful Dead, Volume One (Bear’s Choice).” The logo became one of the many to be associated with the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame band. The others usually incorporate skulls of some sort, so I figured that if I was going to get an ink tribute to Jerry Garcia and company, I’d opt for something that looks a little less forbidding.
Tattoo enthusiasts, my son included, tend to keep getting more and more, but I think it will be one and done for me. That’s what Dad did.
Plus, it hurts.