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ROOTING FOR
THE TATTOOLESS |
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The March Madness epic semifinal basketball matchup between
Duke and North Carolina was about to start a week ago Saturday and I
didn't have a favorite. Something needed to be done.
It's more fun to watch when you're rooting for a particular team,
and I didn't really care who won. And since both teams were from North
Carolina, I couldn't use my political blue state/red state favoritism.
So I went with tattoos. I decided I'd root for the starting
five players that had the least tattoos. Made sense to me.
As each starting player was introduced, I took note. North
Carolina had four marked-up bodies, Duke had only one. It was a landslide.
I became a Duke fan for the night.
I can't stand tattoos. I understand and appreciate the choice
everyone has to do what they want with their own bodies, but I don't have
to like it. And I don't.
I blame it all on Otzi the Iceman. He's the knucklehead who
died around 3300 B.C. and was perfectly preserved in ice until he was
discovered in the European Alps in 1991. He has the distinction of being
the first human evidence of tattoos.
He actually had 61 tattoos, setting a trend that continues
5322 years later. And he probably would have had more if he hadn't
apparently been murdered at the estimated age of 43. How do they know he'd
been murdered? Something about a spear in his head, or maybe it was his
shoulder.
Otzi's tattoos were mostly lines and crosses on the lower
back, knees, wrists and ankles, all areas that might experience pain with
age. Some researchers believe the tattoos to be an ancient treatment for
pain. Apparently, Otzi didn't have time to get a tattoo where the spear
hit.
To me, tattoos for pain make a lot more sense than tattoos
for show. So I'm giving Otzi the Iceman a pass. If I thought a tattoo
would alleviate the pain of aging, I'd be covered with them, too.
Unfortunately, they have no medicinal purpose. All they do is
put a permanent blemish on our beautiful, natural bodies. I don't get it,
and most likely never will.
I'm losing the battle, though. A 2019 national poll showed
that 30% of Americans, regardless of age, had at least one tattoo. The
same poll in 2012 noted "only" 21% had at least one. That's a
lot of ink going under the skin in the last 10 years.
Moreover, 40% of those under 35 years of age have tattoos as
compared to 16% of those over 55 with at least one. That's not good news
for the tattooless crowd, which is fading fast. The trend is not going our
way.
It's all just personal preference. I know how much tattoos
mean to so many people. Making a statement, remembering a loved one, or
creating something beautiful is difficult to criticize. But why on our
skin? And why so permanent?
My niece was 17 years old when she got her first tattoo. It
was the logo of American Spirit cigarettes, which she thought was cool.
She put it on her ankle. A couple of years later, after she gave up
smoking, she covered it with a larger tattoo of an orchid. Then added a
butterfly to her other ankle.
She's now in her 40's and the mother of two daughters. She
doesn't like her tattoos anymore and wants them gone. So she's signed up
for laser removal. It only takes four years to get it done.
Eight treatments, six months apart, $250 per treatment, and
very, very painful. She's completed four, and her orchid and butterfly are
a shadow of their former self. But still a shadow.
Her next treatment is coming up soon, and she has a plan.
She's taking her older daughter, who is 9, to watch. She's pretty
confident that when her daughter sees the painful laser burning her skin
to rid herself of her youthful indiscretions, it will make her think twice
about getting tattooed when she's older.
But who knows? By the time she comes of age, it might be
weird to NOT have a visible tattoo. It seems that's the way it's going,
and I'm not happy about it. But I also realize it's none of my business.
So ink up, younger generation. Make your statements, create
your art. It's your body, and your choice. Otzi the Iceman would approve,
and so do at least 30% of all Americans. But count me out. |
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