I am, by most measures, a cautious and conventional person. I've a house in the suburbs. I drive a Camry with 215,000 miles on it. I work for a giant multinational corporation, safely salaried with all the necessary benefits. College funds for my kids and a modest but growing nest egg.
As we've discussed numerous times in these pages, I've got tons of ideas and no follow-through. You guys remember Gheorghe: The Book, right? And the Mini Cooper that I first started talking about 10 years ago? (Zman has me pointed towards a Miata now. Maybe when my kids graduate college.) And I've been threatening to get a tattoo for years, but i really don't know how serious I actually was for most of that time. It sounded cool, anyway.
I did jump out of an airplane. That was pretty badass.
But as this anything but a pirate looked at 50, struck by the cliche desire to break out of the deepening ruts of convention (and to get the hell away from the news), I took a risk this week. And even this symbolic risk, doing something that used to be the exclusive province of rebels that's become common among housewives and hipsters alike, is meaningful to me, a consummate rule-follower.
I did this:
As I explained a few months ago, my father took to repeating the phrase 'it is what it is' while he was battling cancer, in hopes of deflecting people's concerns. He hated to be pitied, and he didn't like attention all that much, so he adopted a mantra that let him dictate the terms of engagement. I've worn a bracelet with that saying since he passed in November 2010.
I recorded my daughters saying 'it is what is is' on my phone, then I used the audio file to create an image using Soundviz.com:
When I shared it with my tattoo guru, Mark, he told me that particular design might be tough to do at the size I desired, given the fine lines and detail. He encouraged me to consult with a tattoo artist to see how it might be executed.
And when I first met Corey Wheeler at The Body Gallery in my town, he said he could do it, but only if I wanted the tattoo to span my entire back. I'm not quite there yet, so I asked him to play with it and see what he could do. I'd seen lots of his work online, and I like his informal, almost watercolor style, so I put my arm in his hand. Literally.
When he showed me his revised design, my first reaction was, 'man, that's a little bit bigger than I wanted'. My second, 'fuck it, take a risk for once'. I'm really glad I did.
As the process started, Corey was a bit quiet, working methodically on the outline of the image. As he started to fill in the coloring, he became more and more animated. First, 'this looks really fucking cool', then 'I've never done a piece like this - it's fucking badass' (note: really glad he didn't say that until we were almost done), to almost giddy by the end, calling over his colleagues to look at it. He seemed really proud of the work (he posted it on his Instagram feed a couple of hours later), and I was struck by the sense that I was watching an artist create. That part of the experience was entirely unexpected, and one of the things I'll remember the most.
My 16 year-old daughter was blown away. My sister said it looks like a firework display (and it kinda does). My wife, skeptical of the notion, digs it.
As for me, I'm still coming to terms with this 'new' image, the tattooed hipster dad (as my 14 year-old dubbed me). The design extends beyond the cuff of my dress shirts when I roll them up, as is my custom, so I guess I'm not hiding it at work. I hope that the symbolism will stay with me as I make decisions, even as it reminds me of both my Dad and my kids.
In any case, I'm glad I broke my pattern. I'm really happy with the art, and as much so with the fact that I followed through.
Now I just need to figure out what to put on the other arm. For balance, you know.


