It seems the economy is still in a tail spin since voters activated the ejection seat on the GWB crew and gambled on a new pilot to pull out an 11th hour maneuver to keep us all from pile driving into financial terra firma. Sadly, with every yank on the control stick we tax payers get saddled with national debt numbers that have more zeros in them than my Mormon neighbor has kids. In these troubled times all of us need to develop and utilize every personal resource available to make ourselves a marketable commodity in light of double digit unemployment and the overall down turn in the new world order. All of which brings me to an observation I made walking out of the Thai House yesterday. There were three strapping young men dressed in nifty post-punk attire with tattoos all over their hands, knuckles, and necks (probably everywhere else for that matter) milling around on the sidewalk like a gang of George Romero extras from Day of the Dead. Hell one kid even had a spider inked on his right cheek that I can only assume was meant to completely seal his fate as a lifelong minimum wage worker.
As I walked by I struck up a conversation with the only one that didn’t stare at his feet when I gave them a big Idaho “Howdy”! I don’t recall his name so I’ll just call him Dick because this kid kinda struck me as a Dick. I inquired about the green mass of gibberish he had inked over his entire throat. “Dude, that’s like my name in Japanese” he replied earnestly. “Cool, looks like that must have hurt” I sympathized. “Dude, it hurt like a motherf***er but it was worth it” he boasted. Umm, yeah looks good on you…Dick. As I walked away I wondered if there is some dumbass kid in Japan with “DICK” tattooed on his throat. I really hope so; the thought brings a smile to my face. I’d like to think America isn’t the only country stuck with a generation of unemployable retards.
Far be it for me to judge the restless angst of small town youth, back in 1980 I too was an “out of control” punk with a mohawk, tattoos, and a black biker jacket. But my self-esteem never dropped low enough to get ink done that would prevent me from getting a decent job someday. You see, I believed that one day I would eventually grow up and go to college, establish a career and provide for a family. Aside from a few detours along the way, I managed to do just that, even with my tats and battle scars earned in the pits of the early 80’s punk scene in Hollywood (where the only REAL punks live by the by). I’m confident none of the lads out front of the Thai House will grow up to be a Mike Ness or a Henry Rollins, not in Idaho Falls, Idaho for sure. The only explanation I could come up with for this public display of stupidity was that these boys were abandoned by their parents and raised by wolves. I shake my head in disappointment at all the young people that will never realize their full potential due to what they perceive as insignificant decisions they have made as children that can’t be reversed as adults. As much as I despise sounding like a right wing nut job, these kids needed a Dad. A Dad to put a boot in their asses BEFORE they ran out, got a bunch of tattoos in places that can’t be covered, and destroyed their chance at the American dream.
On the bright side, this new generation of “punks” can provide all of us with a much needed unskilled labor pool that can clean our hotels, cook our fast food, bus our tables, etc. Perhaps in 10 years these tatted titans of the service industry will work their way up to the upper end of a poverty level salary as assistant night managers at some of IF’s finer fast food joints, get married, have kids, settle down, and buy a home. After all, somebody has to live in all those 14 x 70s out in Mobile Home Estates.
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Gato got runned over by Marcus many moons ago. Be ye daft, 2486? 
Let's have a new poll, alright, Joe?
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Great post…you tell a good story! I can relate it to some things I’ve seen and interactions I’ve had.
The dumbest tattoo I’ve ever seen in person was (I assume) a misspelling. The guy had “Black Angle” on his forearm. It was of course at a state fair, where all kinds of people come out of the woodwork. He was displaying it proudly so I’m not convinced he even knew it was misspelled yet. I don’t mind when people misspell things online, but to let that happen permanently on your skin is so dumb that it’s an accomplishment. Maybe it was the result of both artist and client being drunk.
I’ve been open to having a tattoo for a long time now but I don’t want to go to a shop to just pick one. I’d like to have something in mind first, and besides names of family members, I can’t think of anything that I am sure I’d always want on my skin.
The subject of the tattoo aside (spider), I’ve seen some nice examples of 3D tats online, such as:
I don’t know if it’s a fad or not (may have been around for centuries I don’t know), but like anything else, it depends on the idea and how it’s done.
Yeah good article! I knew a guy out East that’s probably in his 60’s now, that had “Take This Job and Shove It” tattoo’d on his throat. Unlike the example you talked about, this guy knew exactly what he was doing. As he told it, it was his dream to open up his own machine shop. He wanted to leave himself no other option. He was sure that if he knew that he could always have “get a job” as a backup plan, he might give up a lot easier. It worked out for him – when I knew him he had 5 shops in the region and could retire anytime he wanted.
I wouldn’t suggest that for everyone, but whether something is “smart” or not is less important than whether something works.
well as for the “poopies” as I like to refer to them as… did the few you bumped into were they wearing there sisters pants by chance… mabey they did have a dad but most the guys i know in this town wouldn’t put up with that… and as for the tattoo on the neck… some of those “poopies” wear makeup too since there so smart to get it done…. seems like a brilliant idea for a subminded adolesent to come up with… “Im gonna get um… a tattoo on my cheek… and when mom finds out… i’ll just use my sisters foundations thats the wrong shade… and sit in my room in self pitty crying wondering why nobody understands me…”