Tattoos Gone Wild

Now I've seen it all--a tattoo supply van making the rounds in my Normal Heights neighborhood. A neighborhood, by the way, whose name becomes more paradoxical by the week. Anyway, I was already going to write a bit about the proliferation of tattoo shops--sometimes called "parlors" for some reason I've never known--and what should I see parked in front of one of our newest tattoo establishments but a big really cool looking step van--the kind UPS uses--and on the side is painted, "San Diego Tattoo Supply. I'm not kidding. You can go to their website and check it out. Apparently there are now enough such shops to justify establishing a supply route for ink and needles and things. Things have come a long way since the days of the Helms bread truck and milk delivery.

While I am on the subject, have you noticed the way tattoos have been creeping up onto young women's necks and faces? Seems not all that long ago when the only tattoo you'd see on a female was perhaps a little butterfly near her ankle. Then it was the "tramp stamp" which I still feel is a bit harsh as a term, but is is nicely alliterative. Then one began to see shoulder tatts, like sailors made famous.  Then "sleeves."  Now that once-so-innocent mischievous little butterfly is likely as not to be found on her cheek (either one). Not only that, but it is likely to be joined by a profusion of flowers, vines, birds, and who knows what. And those are the innocent graphics. Then there is the test. You know, tattooed text. I've seen a young women with a sentence running up and down the back of each leg. I've see others with whole paragraphs on their upper chest. I she is standing in the next grocery line over, I dare you not to try to at least make a few words out in order to get the gist of the message. Well, if you live somewhere--I can't imagine it--where you don't see the things I'm talking about, then just do  Google search with the terms "tattoo" and "girl" and you'll get quickly up to speed.

The Confessions of Saint Allen, No.1

I like to shop. There, it's out on the table. (Oh, about the "saint" business: Since it somehow got applied to my buddy Augustine, then I figured what the h...oops, I almost forgot, we saints have standards to maintain. Ahem, ahem.) Where was I? Oh, shopping. Yes, well I suppose shopping is one of those things psychologists and sociologists [By the by--I'm beginning to think I'd really like to be a sociologist. At least I would if I didn't have to produce any long boring papers with lots of statistics and charts and graphs and things. I'd just want to go somewhere, like the airport or a local park and people-watch for an afternoon. I'd take a little pocket notebook and jot a few observations from time to time. Perhaps get a latte and have a friendly conversation with the the person at the coffee cart. I'd get home in the early evening, pour myself a glass of chardonnay and write a short opinion piece based loosely on my day's experience. That's the kind of sociology that would interest me. I think I'll check it out on Monster-dot-com]. Where was I? Oh, yeah, shopping. Anyway, as I was saying, I'm a shopper. I'm also a guy. I have the impression that guys generally don't like to shop. A guy only goes shopping if he is drug (dragged?) along by his wife or goes dutifully, perhaps resentfully, when sent on out by her on a shopping errand, "Oh, and honey, don't forget the maxi-pads. Thanks sweetie." [OK. I'm an amateur sociologist, you don't have to tell me: I know, I know, some guys have a live-in girlfriend instead of a wife. Also if I were a sociologist, I could do a "study" about this thing of guys not liking to shop. I really need to get over to Monster-dot-com]. Like I was saying, I like to shop. I went shopping just today--at Walmart. I like shopping at Walmart. I like the regular unprofessional looking old folks who greet you at the door. They're nice. I haven't done it, but I bet you could stand there and have a nice ten-minute conversation with any one of them. Do you think a sociologist would do a study of Walmart greeters? I would. [How much do sociologists get paid, anyway? Who in the h... oops. I mean, who in the heck pays them?]

[You don't want to go too long without a paragraph break. People freak out when they see a whole bunch of text with our a paragraph break. That's my theory anyway--as an amateur sociologist] Yes, shopping. Another reason I like shopping is I love bargain hunting and getting a good deal. Man, I'm jazzed if I look at "Your savings today" on my receipt and it is into the 40% range! Yippee--I done really good today! I stroll through the lot to my car feeling grrr-ate. "I bet the best anyone else did today was 34%" Best of all is when (I plan my shopping so this rarely happens, but it still does sometimes) we are out of something and have to get it and--it's on sale! Yes! I suppose the feeling I get then is the same as the one regular guys (Ones with the "sports gene"--which I don't happen to have) get when their team scores. I am a big comparison shopper. I love to evaluate things and figure out the best deal. Most evaluations are based on the two main factors: price and quality. There are also other factors which can come in to play, such as: desirability, ease of use, name brand, storage, calories, recyclability, etc. It is a game of sorts--a game I find both rewarding and relaxing.

Well, that just scratches the surface of why I like to shop. I could go on and on I suppose, but that's enough for one post. Sociologist have studied people's reactions to long posts and...