Tattoo You

Los Angeles, California

A while back, our mutual friend, Debra, asked Lydia and me if either of us had ever thought about getting a tattoo. Lydia immediately said no. I said that I had considered it. The big surprise was when Debra came back saying that she had, as well. I doubt if there was much surprise engendered by learning that I had considered it, but Debra? She doesn't seem like the tattoo type, though I am sure I am dating myself by revealing that I think there is such a thing. Tattoos are now ubiquitous on women, starting with the tramp stamp and progressing to sleeves. In the salsa world, there is an abundance of tattoos, and that might be a random sample of the world at large, or at least Los Angeles at large.

This all came back to me tonight as I was watching Thelma and Louise. I love Thelma and Louise, which is probably inconsistent with who I am, though with tastes that lean towards watching Downton Abbey, reading The Spellman Files + listening to both A Prairie Home Companion + Dodgers baseball games on the radio, my choice of entertainment may be hard to pin down.  Anyway, I love Thelma and Louise. I love the unraveling of their journey, and the way it all gets looser, including the look of both of them, as their story tumults towards the end. And it's got some great lines in it, like when Thelma states something like Call me crazy, but I think I've got a knack for this sh*t, after they lock the state trooper into his trunk.

Even though (spoiler alert!!) the girls don't make it, it is nevertheless a story of survival and confronting what crosses their path. It's about their finding the strength within them. I could go on, but it's Thelma and Louise. If you don't know it, or you couldn't figure out what it was about when you saw it, maybe you should watch it (again + again, as I do).

So, as I was watching it tonight, I thought of another tattoo. My fantasy tattoo is a hibiscus. I once had one drawn on my ankle when I was in Hawaii, freehand + in henna. It was beautiful and I grieved as it faded. So I thought about getting one, permanent. Then I remembered that my friend, Todd, told me that the anklet tattoo he got was so painful that he wanted to stop in the middle of it, but he was too vain to walk around with what would appear to be half a tattoo. So I put the ankle hibiscus on the back burner. Still, thinking about Thelma + Louise, I thought that the calligraphic initials, T+L would mean a lot to me. Not for the girls, but for my father and my uncle's initials-- two men who meant a great deal in my life. And that it would be emblematic of the courage and survival I have come hard to learn is essential in life.

Just after my life changed forever, Matthew, a member of the outlaws (in-laws) who, nevertheless remains in touch with me, showed me his most recent tattoo. It is of Hiroshima. Matthew is mixed Japanese-American, so I initially thought he felt that connection to it. But, he explained that he had gotten it because it reminds him daily that, regardless of whatever he is going through, someone else has had it worse. I don't think I need that reminder, though I do have to poke myself with it now and again. And it is true: T+L sail off into the sunset, because not everyone gets to go home like E.T. And while some of us may feel that a dark cloud is attached to us as we cope with whatever it is that the universe has thrown at us, that dark cloud is very different from Hiroshima's. So while I currently struggle with what feels like a total eclipse of my very own, I try to get a purchase on what I have accomplished so far. It has been more than two years of plain and simple hell. But, so far, I have survived. I have survived. And that is no small thing. I never want to go through anything like this again, but I have learned that I am stronger than I ever knew. Though, truth be told, I am far from thinking, like Thelma, that I've got a knack for this sh*t. While I have so far survived the journey, there were a vast amount of stretches on the road that I will always, always wish I could have detoured. But that is surely true of all of us, including Thelma. And, most certainly, Louise.