What’s all in a tattoo? More than ink, I think.
It’s not a secret, but I have ink. It’s not a secret, I got another.
I got my first tattoo in the heady days of spring 1987. Although I got it at a tattoo joint in scenic Wickliffe, Ohio, I usually refer to it as my spring break tattoo. This was one during of my first dozen or so rebellious phases which were subsequently replaced by multiple mid-life crises. One of the others featured a getting an earring which I think was before the tattoo.
I did go on spring break that year, and after I check the statute of limitations, maybe someday I’ll write of that, but for now it’s all about the ink. These were the carefree days of the late 80s and I believe it was peak tattoo time for the Tazmanian Devil of Warner Bro’s fame. A buddy and I with our freshly minted 18ness, and selective service registration behind us, decided to go get tattoos. I don’t recall it being scandalous or anything, but fair to say getting inked back in the day was less common than now.
I remember being thoughtful regarding the location of Taz, deciding on a low spot on my right ankle. In the old days, tattoos were mostly reserved for bikers & sailors, and I wasn’t either, multiple future motorcycles notwithstanding. I had thoughts of being a successful businessman, so I didn’t want my career sidetracked by a tattoo on my forearm, the ankle location suited my dreams just fine.
How we arrived at the Tasmanian Devil decision, I don’t recall, but I’m sure I considered other cartoons of my youth at the least. The cartoon version is easier on the eyes than the real life one.
He and I often referred to each other as “Tattoo Brothers” for the rest of that year. We kept in contact a little for a couple years, but lost contact as many people do through time. I ran into him twenty-five years ago at a gym, where he was (true to form) working on his biceps. I walked over and said, “nice ink, man”. He looked up with an unrecognizing face, and I said, Hey, it’s me, your Tattoo Brother! We laughed and made small talk and said we’d have to get together soon.
We have not, yet.
Through the magic of Facebook we connected electronically fifteen years back and we enjoy about as good a cyber-friendship as time and space allows. But like many, we could do better. If we do get together sometime, it’ll be at his place during a winter, because Ft. Meyers sure beats Chesterland in February.
The second tattoo was circa 88,89, or maybe 90? I polled those in the know, and that’s about as well as I can narrow it down. This tattoo is a cobra with flared hood, big sharp nasty teeth, and fiery red eyes. A snake is one of my fraternity symbols, so if I can remember how my 20ish year-old brain functioned, I was trying to represent various seasons of my life by permanently placing them on my body. I had no tattoo brother for this one which was done in downtown Willoughby, but I had a chapter full of fraternity brothers who knew it was the coolest thing on an ankle east of the Mississippi.
Then against all the scuttlebutt about “tattoos are addictive” I remained ink free for thirty-five years. I don’t think I ever even had a smidgen of a thought to get another.
Until a few months ago.
I struggle with writing. Not the same way all do. But a struggle nonetheless. I love everything about writing, but so many variables have to be just right, to write. I need inspiration, self-confidence, creativity, audience, purpose, motivation, desire, time, and most importantly, a lack of excuses. All these need to come together like the Beatles, but they don’t as often as I’d like.
I had an idea to give myself an existential kick in the ass.
Some of my more dedicated readers have probably pondered my “atryingshepherd” nom de plume. I’m certain some think it’s related to my strong Lutheran upbringing in the church, while others wonder if it’s a tip of the hat to the film “Pulp Fiction”. The truth is, I don’t really know. I have an affinity for words and phrases, and I know I liked the word play of both trying and shepherd in that they both have meanings as verbs, adjectives, or nouns. The “a” is just a good old fashion article which Betsy taught me I needed to use in the second grade. There may be other subtle nuances or meanings, but those lurk unknown below the surface of your mind.
So here was the incredible idea I hatched. I would create an avatar type logo that would represent “atryingshepherd” and use it as an avatar on my various social media accounts and I would get it tattooed on my body to remember to stay motivated to whatever goal I seek.
There was a problem.
I have no graphic talent whatsoever. However, what I lack in talent, I make up for in friends, so I reached out to an absolute assassin of an artist I know and sent him this email.
On Sat, Jan 13, 2024 at 10:20 AM Dale Pate <dpate572@yahoo.com> wrote:
My brother in FSM,
I’ve got a trade show in March 6-9 in San Antonio that I’m currently scheduled to work. I haven’t nailed down my exact coming and going yet, but I’m thinking of throwing a little business your way whilst down.
I have a couple tattoos from last century circa ’87 & ’88 I’d like to have you touch/color-up. These are not art, but they are a perfect representation of that time in my life, which I think is the point for me. One is the classic 1987 spring break Tasmanian devil, and the other is a cobra which is one of my college fraternity mascot/symbol. And yes, they are as artistically void as you suspect.
The other (slightly) more artistic opportunity is that as part of my motivation to write more, I’d like to capture my “atryingshepherd” phrase in some sort of symbol/image. I use that phrase on my blog which I have not written on forever (bad, bad, Dale) and on other sites as a screen name. I’m thinking I’d like some sort of symbol that I could use as an avatar, and have it tattooed on my calf (where the other two live).
In my mind, I was thinking of some sort of mash up of an @ sign and a ? mark, which the writer in me sees as symbolic representation of AT for a trying, and the question mark represents a shepherd’s hook. Plus, I seem to be questioning everything at this point in life! Again, I’m no artist or graphic designer and I doubt I could even play one on TV, but I think I’d want it to be something elegant (in the true sense of the word) and crisp in maybe only two or three colors.
I’d like you to create that symbol and make it a permanent part of my being.
Sorry to puke so many words out on this, but I wanted to convey the vibe of what I’m looking to do and for what reasons.
Noodle on it a bit, and let me know your thoughts. I guess it’d also be helpful to know if you’re going to be home around those days. I’ll likely come in a day early or stay a day late. If nothing else, we can catch up and break bread together.
Take care,
Dale
Sent from my iPad
He responded with the beautiful note “…I’m totally down to do this” and the die was cast.
I patiently waited for a couple weeks as he mentally chewed through the task at hand, his artist’s mind gnawing away at a symbolic assignment. I thought he’d think on these things, then present a couple options.
I was wrong.
He sent back exactly one idea. And it was over in one. He nailed it. One shot, one kill.
I’m delighted.
It worked.
I wrote this today.
