Between Rick and I we share four children. These four have produced nine grandchildren. I know. Four boys and five girls in all. Of the girls, one daughter and one granddaughter have a real affinity for ink. The tattoos began as experimental I think. A small rose here, a delicate heart there. Now they’ve progressed like the urban sprawl covering larger and larger areas of available acreage. The artwork is genuinely to be praised. Amazingly detailed, with vibrant colors and clever design.
The ladies in question are young. Blessed with beautiful smooth young skin. A natural canvas upon which an artist can create. Unfortunately, as with all of us these bodies are in a state of flux. As the years pass, skin loses its elasticity. Even with the most tender loving care and expensive lotions and creams they insist on withering and wrinkling like an apple left too long in the sun. I can’t help but wonder what happens to tattoos during this transition.
Back in the 80’s I worked with a female executive. Linda was a very attractive woman in her mid-thirties. With a reputation as a powerhouse, she led her minions with a firm hand. Quite a feat in those days, particularly in an engineering company a venue long dominated by a strong male presence. Beautiful clothes were her hallmark. I used to wonder at where she stored all the accessories and shoes on display. Even on the hottest summer days, however, a jacket or cover up always accompanied her outfit. I knew she worked out because we had gone together on several occasions. Even on the treadmill a long-sleeved shirt was pulled on over her workout pants. Hmmmmmm.
Two years into our working arrangement we established a sort of friendship outside of work. Not best buddies, but we hung out on occasion, stopping off for a glass of wine after a long day or grabbing lunch every other week or so. As our friendship deepened, Linda’s story naturally unfolded. She hailed from a blue-collar family, very white bread. Her father, given the task of watching over four girls, took his job very seriously. Linda didn’t take easily to all the rules and restrictions. At eighteen instead of heading off to college as was written in her parent’s playbook, she chose to run with a local motorcycle club. In particular a twenty-something rider with cascading hair affectionately known as Blade. I remember his name because you just don’t come across that many Blades in a lifetime, so when you do the name tends to stick with you. (No pun intended.) During these wild and unproductive years she found herself quite drunk one Saturday night. While in this state she chose tattoos for both upper arms and one for her lower back now referred to as a “tramp stamp”. Back then tattoos were mainly the craze in military personnel, fringe groups, and motorcycle types.
Over the next few months the tattoos came to life. Well suited for the lifestyle she was living at the time, as relationships will do when we are young the shine wore off Blade. Linda left him in her rear view mirror and moved on. Replacing leathers for jeans and tees she headed off to college to jump start her education. On one arm off the shoulder it read “Rider from Hell” above a cutoff clad female biker on a bike. On the other arm, “Born to be Bad” was inscribed above a heart with crossbones. I don’t know what was on her lower back. Didn’t know her that well. At any rate, as well accepted as these were by the Harley set, in an upscale college environment they were more of a conversation starter. Worse yet they set the tone for how she got treated at parties or on dates. Clasping her degree on graduation day preparing to let herself loose on the interview circuit, the tattoos were not going to be her foot in the door.
Hiding them for interviews, it became necessary to continue to conceal them as she moved up the corporate ladder. I suppose tattoos are well accepted in most environments nowadays. I’m still not sure I can picture them in the boardroom, but that too may be changing.
I’ve mentioned before I’ve thought of getting one myself a time of two. My choices would be small and most likely placed for easy coverup. I do admire the beautiful workmanship and support the girls choices to do what they choose to do with their bodies. Can’t help but wondering how they’ll feel about it down the road a piece. Being grownups I’m sure they’ll deal with it as it comes along.
As an aside the dogs in our neighborhood seem to have all lost their minds simultaneously howling and carrying on endlessly. Makes me wonder if it’s associated with the recent earthquake and aftershocks in Napa. We didn’t feel the earth move, but friends in the Bay Area certainly did.
This is a really meaty and delicious version of good old tomato soup, which I love with either a light salad or a gooey grilled cheese sandwich.
Meaty Tomato Pepper Soup
1 lb. ground chuck
1 onion, chopped
1/2 cup green bell pepper, chopped
1/2 cup orange bell pepper, chopped
2 15 1/2 oz. cans diced tomatoes, with juice
2 6 oz. cans tomato sauce
3 1/2 cups chicken broth
1/2 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
1 cup cooked corn
1 Tbsp. taco seasoning mix, hot
1 tsp. basil
1/2 tsp. garlic powder
1/4 tsp. onion powder
2 bay leaves
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. black pepper
1 1/2 cups cooked brown rice
Brown ground meat over med.-high heat in stockpot until browned. Drain on paper towels. Return to skillet. Add bell peppers and onions. Cook until onion is translucent over med. heat.
Add remaining ingredients except rice to pot. Cover and simmer for 45 mins. or until peppers are tender.
Ladle soup into bowls with 1/4 cup rice on bottom.
Serves 6.
Mm. Cold weather fare. I’m ready for it. Thanks for the recipe.
Can I tell you a secret? I’ve been thinking about a ‘small’ tattoo for a while now. The trouble is not so much what as where. Do want it to show a little bit, just a hint? Of COURSE. I’d be lying if I said it was just for me. What do I want? Not sure. Why do I want it? ( to feel sexy, of course) WHERE can I plan it to get a little attention yet not look like a wrinkled has been? 😀 😀 😀
Tess, I’m ready for fall. The apples in my pic are the first signs of it around the house. Oh, and the trees because of the drought seem to think it’s already here.
I think you should get a tattoo. I think anywhere you want to express yourself would be perfect.
This soup sounds wonderful!
My youngest daughter is a tattoo artist…she’s well know for her skill at portraiture. She’s pretty well covered from the neck down in tattoos and body piercings, too. She is still a beautiful spirit and a lovely woman, but I can’t get used to it.
Cindy, soup weather for us is all year round. Rick likes his soup even if I’m wearing shorts when I’m cooking it. 🙂
I’m sitting on the fence right next to you. As beautiful as the tattoos are to look at, I find them also a lot to look at. When you’re fully dressed it is still all you see. We only have one piercing thus far. At one point one of them was going to get the tongue stud but they thought better of it in the end. I don’t know. I guess we were free spirits to our parents.
if I make your delicious sounding soup,will the cold weather accompany it,pretty please? I am so ready!!!
A friends parakeets,usually quiet all night,startled my friend awake just before the earthquake hit and she felt it too..not me thankfully,having grown up in SF,felt too many!
Jen, I’m with you about the cold weather. I’ve been eying my fall decorations in the cupboard but not quite time yet. The weather we’ve been having is fabulous, however. No complaints from me.
I know. I really think the dogs were reacting to what was going on with the earth. They’ve stopped now. If I never feel another one, you won’t see a tear from me.
I always feared that if I got a tattoo, Susie, I’d soon tire of it and then I’d spend my lifetime regretting my decision. Then, I thought of the solution and got one. It’s on my back, across my shoulders. Unable to see it without use of mirrors, I can honestly say that I can go weeks without giving it so much as a single thought. I’ll never tire of it. 🙂
Love the idea of adding a bit of chuck to tomato soup, as well as the brown rice. Make it much more hearty.
John, that’s a good idea. I love the artwork in most of them, but I’ve always been afraid I’d have buyer’s remorse. Perhaps I’ll still think about it one of these days.
The leaves are starting to show some color in our yard. Soup weather is just around the corner. Really it’s always soup weather at our house, just a matter of the type of soup. 🙂
Tattoos really are permanent, unless one opts for the not-painless and very expensive laser removal. So I wonder about those “I-like-regular-redecorating” people who get them. What happens if they don’t like them in a year or ten?
Some comedians have had a field day doing those “aging” photos on tattoos. The results aren’t pretty! I’ve always thought something temporary might be a better way for folks to go. And then, hey, you don’t like Kermit the Frog anymore? No problem, switch to something else. But that’s just me. 🙂
I’m with you. I went to help out at my daughter’s day care a while back. She sometimes gives out temporary tattoos for good behavior. As I behaved very well while there, I got an angry bird on my upper arm. Worked for me. 🙂