My little holding room yesterday was visited by professional medical staff all morning long. I was impressed by the female staff of young doctors, the female nurse monitoring sedation (I really must learn to spell the word I wanted to use here) , the Physician Assistants and the higher levels of professional personnel that were women. I remember the days when there were very few women doctors.
As we were introduced to each one entering the room, the lack of one thing was very noticeable. These women wearing their short sleeved tunics were ink free. Not one of them was inked up or at least in an area that could be seen.
My husband commented on this. "These are professional people. They are busy getting degrees, not sitting around thinking how KEWL it would be to have some big gaudy patch of ink tatted onto their skin."
I find it very refreshing not to have to look at body scribbling. It also is very reassuring for me to know that my caretaker had better things to do then get inked up. I'm waiting for the day when a nurse walks into my room with ink from elbows to finger tips. My reaction will not be positive. Even restaurants demand their help cover their tattoos with long sleeved shirts regardless the hot temperatures of the summer months.
I might have a problem with commitments. I can't imagine selecting a picture and having it needled into my skin. I have to change the color on my living room walls every 5 yrs. Curtains get changed to give the room a fresh look and lamps get moved from room to room.
The closets get raided. That shirt I loved a few months ago is now something I can't tolerate and those jeans? Too faded, too tight, too loose or too blue, they need to go.
I can't imagine looking at my skin and seeing some skull or some rose or even worse some initial that can't be scrubbed off. Telling me you got a tattoo to declare your "difference" I nod as I glance around the room at all your buddies sporting the same tattoo or one close to it. Yes dear, you are so different.
I'm hoping this craze of debasing one's skin fades away; I'm still waiting for rap music to crash and burn. This might take a while!
I thought I was the only one to feel that way.
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ReplyDeleteJoan..the husband feels the same way about tattoos. My daughter does also. The granddaughter wanted one...but as the years passed and she has aged a little, and in fear of being murdered by her mother and I, she has fresh uninked skin.
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