For some reason, I wound up watching some episodes of Miami Ink a couple of nights ago. I like the show. Sure, it's 'reality TV,' but there is a lot less 'drama' involved in the show than other similar series. It's a much more down-to-earth look at the tattoo business, almost more like a documentary than a 'reality TV' series. I guess I also find it a bit fascinating, the idea of being an artist who uses the human body as a canvas. I mean, these guys are definitely artists - their stuff is incredible. But at the same time there is this element of human life as a back-drop to everything, of making something, a piece of art, a permanent part of somebody's appearance. This seems to up the stakes on 'art' a bit: it's art, with an extra little dose of stress.

So watching the show made me start thinking about getting a tattoo again. I went through a period like this about 2 or 3 years ago and was close to getting one, but couldn't decide on what I wanted. The problem is I like art that is abstract and full of color - like Rothko. But big blotches of color don't really work well as a tattoo. A tattoo needs to be more representational, and it's hard for me to find a strong enough affinity to something like that where I would want to place on my skin permanently.

Then I read this article in the Washington Post and I thought, now there's something I wouldn't mind having as a tattoo: the red stripes and stars of the DC flag. Apparently, this is not a new idea. People have been getting it as a tattoo for years. The idea started as a sort of emblem of DC's punk music seen, but lately it's also been found emblazoned on DC-statehood activists who are trying to get DC representation in congress. Both of these are respectable causes. But for me, having the DC flag somewhere on my body would be less of a political or attitude statement as it would be showing pride for a city I've recently come to love and also where I was born (well, close anyways.)

So I ran this by Catherine while we were hanging out in Baltimore yesterday:

"Okay. I think I've decided on a tattoo."

"Uh-oh," she said "Okay, what is it?"

"The DC flag."

There was no hesitation. No thoughful moment of reflection. No diplomatic 'talking down.' Just a roll of the eyes and a simple, "No."

I couldn't believe she had dismissed it so quickly. Why? What was wrong with it? It was certainly better than any idea I'd had in the past, musical notes or worse, a kokopelli. And who was she to pass judgement? She has three tattoos herself! I decided if she wasn't going to go for that, then I'd have to opt for the nuclear option.

"Okay, then I'll have to get a clown. Not a mean clown or an evil clown, but a happy clown. With balloons. It could go on my arm."

"Hell no."

Then I realized: this is the argument I never had with my Mom when I was 16!

"Well, I'm getting it anyway! It's my body and I can do what I want."

"Wrong on both counts," she said.

I tried to think of a rebuttal. Then I realized she was right.

We walked the Inner Harbor for a few minutes in silence.

"Alright," I said, "I'll think about it some more. But I'm not giving up, yet. The flag idea is killer."

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