Tattoos I Don't Have

I don't have any tattoos. I am also noticeably lacking in piercings, brandings, ritual scarrings, and aputations. I don't even dye my hair. When it comes to body modification, I am the basic, off-the-shelf model with no alterations. And that, naturally, means that I am boring.

Well, not "boring" exactly. But it means I don't have stories to tell. People with tattoos get to explain the deep significance behind this and the night of debauchery that resulted in that and occasionally the jailhouse killing that earned them the tear on the face. Me, I got nothing. Oh, I've got the occasional regular (non-ritually-acquired) scar, but those stories aren't really all that interesting. They were interesting at the time, at least to me, but when you can't see the blood flowing down my face, you're probably not riveted. Especially since many of my scars require careful examination to get noticed at all. A scar you can see from across the street is interesting; a scar hidden behind my left eyebrow is not, in itself, the stuff from which legends are made.

Now, it's not that I'm opposed to tattoos and piercings and whatnot. On the contrary; I think they can be, on the right person, really hot. However, I've just never had them done to me. Incidentally, that's kind of a problem, because if I'm out on the street and I see some girl who I think is a hottie because she's got a green mohawk and tattoed ankles, she's probably not going to look at me and think "Hey, that guy with the normal haircut and uninked body -- have him oiled and brought to my chambers."

Anyway, I seem to have gotten off-topic. The idea was that I was going to describe the tattoos I don't have. You can tell from the subject line. See, my favorite use of tattoos is when someone gets one to commemorate something in their lives. Not like "I want to remember always this time when I was infatuated with New Kids on the Block" but "I just ran my first marathon" or something, you know? Like when the people in Lord of the Rings got the Elvish "9" because there were nine of them in the Fellowship. That sort of thing is, in my opinion, neat. Except when it's overdone; then it looks more like "I got this tattoo to commemorate the fact that I had thirty bucks and I just found another few square inches of unmarked skin." If you're going to get a million tattoos, I'd appreciate it if you'd try to merge them together into some kind of cohesive picture. A bunch of unrelated images all next to each other doesn't look right.

Tattoo One: J.R. "Bob" Dobbs

Ah, "Bob". I've come pretty close on a number of occasions to getting the Dobbshead permanently implanted into my skin. I'm pretty sure that if the Xists ever get around to incinerating the Earth, the people who wear the picture of "Bob" will have the first pick of the pleasure saucers. Okay, that's enough lingo.

I used to be a pretty big follower of The Church of the Subgenius. If you go through that website, you'll eventually find nonsense written by me. The teachings of the church would take a lifetime to explain, and even then they're pretty goofy. The point, though, is that when you strip away the foolishness about Yetis and Pleasure Saucers and Luck Planes, there's reasonably meaningful stuff in there. Unfortunately, below that is another layer of bulldada. But it's the closest thing I have to a religion. And since it's pretty heavy on the clip art, there are a lot of things that would make entertaining tattoos.

The Dobbshead, to be done properly, would have hundreds of tiny dots in it; it's a half-toned picture that's been blown up to disturbing size. But I don't think most tattoo artists would be thrilled about being asked to exactly mimic the tiny details (like the mysterious Mickey Mouse in "Bob's" eye). Plus, it seems like it would take a really long time and probably hurt a lot. More than usual, I mean.

Tattoo Two: The Three of Clubs

Boy, and you thought that last one was fanboyish. This one would be because Penn & Teller always use the Three of Clubs for their card tricks, and one of their books had some advice on how to use your tattoos as the reveal. Actually, the specific recommendation was to get the tattoo done without ink, so it scars up a little and is visible for a few weeks before it fades. Because there's no ink in the needle, the tattoo is effectively being done with blood. Penn Jillette did this because he wanted to see how much a tattoo hurt but he didn't want to actually get a permanent tattoo. And then Lou Reed thought it was so cool he wrote a song about it. I've considered doing it too, but (again) never got around to it.

Tattoo Three: Something I've Survived

Some tattoos are badges of honor. They remind you that while something may not have actually made you stronger, at least it didn't kill you. Come to think of it, you can do this one self-referentially and get a tattoo to celebrate the fact that you survived getting a tattoo. Although that seems risky; what if you start getting it and then you find out that the pain is too much to bear? Then you're stuck with half a tattoo commemorating the fact that you're a wuss. That's no way to live.

There are times in my life that were difficult, but the problem was that they tended to be marked by a serious lack of money. Even once the corner had been turned, I didn't really have the funds available to be making random purchases like tattoos. Like, there was the time I lived in Wyoming for a few months. Overall, it was a fairly unpleasant experience. And when I got free, I didn't have any tattoo money. Plus, now that I think of it, I don't know what I'd get to represent Wyoming. I mean, I didn't like it, so I don't really want a straight-up Wyoming Logo on my skin, you know?

Tattoo Four: Something I've Accomplished

This is the more upbeat version of the previous one. I think it's what guys in the Navy get when they cross the International Date Line. Incidentally, does anyone know what the recent Tattoo Explosion has done to the old-school guys with tattoo shops outside navy bases? Because there are a few places in San Diego that I'm pretty sure just do anchors, Tasmanian Devils, and the word "Mother". It's gotta be weird to do the same tattoos on the same crusty old sailors for decades and then suddenly have a big influx of kids demanding Celtic braidwork.

Oops. Got off-track again. My point is that I've done some things I've proud of. Like, um, reading Marcel Proust's A la Recherche du Temps Perdu. But I'm not sure what tattoo would represent that. I guess there was the time I finally learned to juggle five balls. That would look pretty neat.

Tattoo Five: Something Geeky

Well, obviously almost anything I get is going to be fairly far to the right on the Geek Spectrum. Let's face it; I'm a geek, and that's going to be reflected in things I do. However, there's always the option of a tattoo that directly speaks to that. Like, say, a 20-sided die. Or a teeny computer. Or the word "Plugh". And I could keep going.

So, yeah, I've considered tattoos in the past. But I didn't get any of them. I suppose I could get one tattoo to combine all the ideas, like, um, "Bob" with a cowboy hat that has the three of clubs in its brim. And some other stuff. I don't know. It seems like that would get pretty busy. And then explaining it would take forever. It would need one of those books like they have for coats of arms. There'd be lions rampant and all sorts of obscure symbolism.

So you see my problem, right? I've spent all this time not getting tattoos that if I decided I wanted one, I'd need to justify why it was more important than all the ones I wasn't getting. I don't need that kind of responsibility.