Dragging Dragon Tattoo
When I was a kid, the only people who had tattoos were sailors who’d gotten drunk on shore leave. A heart with a girl’s name in it was about as risqué as most of them got. The adventuresome might have a girl in a hula skirt who danced when they flexed their muscles. Normal, nice, everyday people did not mark up their bodies with tattoos. If you wanted to see something like that you had to go to a faraway island, or read about it in National Geographic . Not any more. Why I was down at the Big D for lunch today and the young man working the cash register had a big old dragon twining up his left forearm. Of course, the key word associated with all the tattooing is “young.” Most of the people my age know better than to get a tattoo this late in the game. Probably because there aren’t many tattoo patterns that look good on wrinkled skin sprinkled with age spots. And that’s the problem. I won’t be around to see it, but I project–if there are still humans on this planet–t