This is what a tat looks like after being on my skin for fifty years. I got it when I was sixteen in 1964. A buddy of mine, a major whack-job and I drove down to Long Island New York from our little New England village in Connecticut one Friday evening determined to get tattooed. The trip to NY was necessary because CT didn't allow tattooing at the time. So, it was either Providence, Rhode Island or NY. A two six pack drive later we arrived at our destination, a tattoo "parlor", squeeky clean with the artists and techs dressed in white. I selected this eagle from an array on the wall. My buddy decided to get two tats that night, one on each arm. This was the rebellious thing to do in those days and my showing up with it at high school started the tongues to wagging. I've been in Southern Cal forty four years now, the last twenty eight in Fallbrook. I had a successful career despite the "bad boy" past and wouldn't change anything. The right arm has two tats - one received in downtown L.A. and the other on the Long Beach Pike when that existed.
April 17, 2014