Ink

Skinny Buddha

Today I went to Skinny Buddha Tattoo to get the 1-1-Six on my arm touched up (it’s standard for a tattoo shop to give one free touch up, seeing as they can’t be sure what ink will fade after the initial work fully heals).

Yes, the straight-laced middle-class Christian white boy has a couple tattoos. And he’s not done (sorry Mom).

It has amazed me how dis-unified society’s view of tattoos is. Even among young people, the idea floats around that permanent ink is somehow a product of a seedy low-class society or is just a stupid thing that we’ll regret later on. Enough of the adults in our lives come from an era in which tattoos belonged only to convicts and soldiers. Yet there are many people (usually younger than about 35) who view tattoos as perfectly acceptable, even normal.

At the very least, I would say we have moved far enough along to recognize how cretaceous that article by David Whitley on Colin Kaepernick was. Of course some people surely agree with Mr. Whitley, but I think in general we can say those people are being rather obtuse. Still, it is not no-holds-barred when it comes to tattoos. They still make a lot of people at least a little uncomfortable and there are some work-places where they are just a flat-out no-go.

Let me tell you a quick story, give some encouragement, and then debunk a few myths about permanent bodily ink.

When I went to Skinny Buddha a few months ago, two of the employees, thoroughly inked on their arms and neck, walked into the shop talking about how some people nearby were giving them dirty looks. The woman at the front desk, a perfectly “normal” looking lady, who has one of the more beautiful pieces I’ve seen, shook her head and said sarcastically, “That’s right, we have tattoos which means we must beat our children.” She was aware of the way people must think of her and the people she works with, but she knew that those stereotypes were false because she, you know, actually spends time with those people.

The people at Skinny Buddha are friendly people. They’re cool people. They’re funny and polite. Same goes for the guys at the shop where I had my leg done. And the same goes for most of the other inked people I know, including two of my managers at work.

Maybe once upon a time if you saw a couple of heavily tattooed guys sitting in a parking lot smoking cigarettes you’d be right to be a little wary. But now? That’s just a total case of stereotyping. It’s unkind, really. Having tattoos does not make someone a freak. It’s a safe way of self-expression, of engraving something important, or just displaying art.

Which is why I would encourage you to think about getting one. I’m not telling you that you should, but just that you should think about it. And if after a lot of thinking you still think you want one, then go for it. Do your research of course, and be smart about it, but don’t let society’s false assumptions dissuade you if you find that it is really something you want to pursue. It’s fun. It’s meaningful. And it’s something to look forward to and something to be proud of. It’s a natural thing for humans to want to decorate their body, and tattooing (by no means a new thing) is one of many ways to do this, along with piercing, hair-styling, heck, even the way you dress.

So let’s debunk a few tattoo myths real quick:

Tattoo parlors are sketchy: Not if you choose the right one. There are a ton of artists out there. Some of them are running questionable operations out of a smoke-shop, others are working in a highly professional work space. Others are working in a clean, hip, residential office space. Yes, you could easily get a tattoo in a dingy building from an ex-junkie motorcycle gang member. But you can just as easily go to a totally chill art studio and find professional service operating under government-approved health procedures.

It’s dangerous. Again, not if you go to the right place. If you go full-janky on this, then sure someone might re-use a needle and you’ll get a disease. But if you go to a reputable establishment with paperwork on the wall, there is nothing to worry about.

It hurts. Okay this is kind of a loaded question, because it really does depend. And there are also people out there who will quickly say “no it doesn’t hurt.” Let’s get one thing straight: it can be quite uncomfortable. There’s no denying that. However, this discomfort can vary greatly depending on where you get the tattoo. Muscular areas are not a problem while bony and fatty areas hurt more. Additionally, it’s kind of an in-the-moment pain. Just a few minutes after I always feel like I could go for another session no problem. I don’t hurt just thinking about it. Then again, I have not been tattooed on the foot or on the side, which I understand can hurt quite badly. So yes, pain is a factor, but if you’re looking for something on your arm, I don’t think you should let that hold you back.

It’s expensive. This also depends on the shop. You don’t want to be a cheapskate here, because every single bad tattoo ever done came at a cheap price. However, you can definitely overpay. The first place I went to, which is an award-winning shop that regularly tattoos Green Bay Packers, was overkill for the lettering I wanted done. You can find perfectly good artists for reasonable prices. Also, it’s for life. So if you think about it that way, it’s not that expensive, especially in comparison to the 10 bucks you spend on dinner or lunch that lasts you twenty minutes and is probably no good for you. Or the hundreds you spent on that dress you’ll only wear a couple of times. This is a very strange thing to accuse of being too expensive. Speaking of which, even though they don’t need to be so expensive, I’m not sure why people think it’s a waste of money to buy video games. I have never quite understood why a video game someone might spend 60 hours playing is considered over-priced if he buys it for $60 bucks. In the words of Napoleon Dynamite, “That’s like a dollar an hour!” (Granted, there are better things to do besides play video games. I’m just saying it’s unfair to call buying them a waste of money).

What if it doesn’t turn out well? No big deal. Tattoo artists are exactly that: artists. They see things we don’t see. They can turn a disaster from someone else into a new piece of art. I mean, a complex back-piece might be tough to fix up, but if that hummingbird on your shoulder doesn’t look so good, another artist can turn it into something else beautiful no problem.

You’ll regret it later in life. Blah blah. Consider these reasons:

  1. The art has advanced. They age better than they used to. And, like I just said, cover-ups are usually a cinch. And you can always pay a few dollars for a touch-up.
  2. Won’t you look awful anyway? No offense, old people. But I think it just comes with the territory. It’s not like you’re out trying to attract mates. Usually.
  3. How much skin are you going to be showing? Old people, particularly old men, have such an amazing selection of swagging wardrobe choices. And most of the time they involve long pants and long sleeves. So now and then you might have shorts and a t-shirt, but, again, how often? And if you do, it’ll probably be in a setting in which no one will care if you have some old ink.
  4. That will probably be the least of your problems. Your friends/spouse will be dying, you might be getting diseases, children and grandchildren will be off in the world, and all manner of other old person things will be happening in your beautiful later stages of life. A faded tattoo won’t be worth worrying about. And, actually, seeing it might be an encouraging reminder to you of something from your youth.
  5. Your choices are limitless. You can tattoo just about anything on your body. So if you don’t pick something stupid, you won’t regret it. It’s really pretty simple: don’t but something stupid on your body. If you can see yourself being proud to wear whatever it is for the rest of your life, then don’t worry about whether or not it will look brand-new in fifty years.
  6. Your current self gets cheated. I generally tend to think that our older, wiser selves know best. But, is that always true? For example, do old people really understand love, or do young people in the throes of infatuation? I don’t know. Think about it. Anyway, why should the 50-75 version of you rob the 20-40 version that will enjoy having some tattoos?

Well there you have it. There are a lot of myths floating around there about tattoos. Get informed. Oh, here’s one last thing. I have to complain about something real quick. There are plenty of things having to do with people who get tattoos and the way people react to people who get tattoos, but let me just throw out one of them right now: stop calling it a leg-tattoo. I don’t get this. The only body parts this works with are leg and neck, and in neither instance does it make sense. You don’t say arm-tattoo or chest-tattoo. What is so significant or strange about having a tattoo on my leg that makes you label it not “a tattoo on your leg” but a “leg-tattoo” like it’s the same sort of thing as a “neck-tattoo?” So please don’t call it that.

And one more thing: I’m not in anyway saying that there are not stupid tattoos, seedy shops, or sketchy artists. There are. So you can’t just jump into this haphazardly. But there are enough of us sensible people out there that there’s plenty of opportunity to do this in a totally cool way.

Soli Deo Gloria

-Peter

 

Welcome to America

Welcome to America

Last Thursday, Lecrae released a music video for “Welcome to America,” the second track on his chart-topping album Anomaly, a song he performed earlier this year on Fallon (using sound clips from Selma to accentuate that performance). It is a well-produced, multi-faceted, and powerful video accompanying a poignant and unflinching song. “Welcome to America” comes in what has become a tradition of hip-hop songs decrying the various problems facing this country.

The idea that I’m kicking around here is how we can be affected by songs like “Welcome to America” yet still, with readiness, say “I’m proud to be an American,” and “This is the greatest country on Earth.” Because you have good reason to be proud of America, and it is, in many ways, the greatest country on Earth. But, at the same time, I don’t think anyone, unless they are insane or ignorant, would dispute the images put forth in Lecrae’s video and how accurately they represent problems facing America, particularly (in this video) the problems faced by marginalized youths, military veterans, and immigrants. How is it that we can, so easily, accept America as a fantastically wonderful country of opportunity and freedom but also a repressive institution of discrimination, crime, and poverty?

There are some who might say that they are not proud of America, or go so far as to say that the nation is one big evil thing with no hope of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Sometimes this comes from a fairly limited perspective, sometimes not, but I think most of us would agree that there are, truly, some pretty amazing things about this country. This is why I think songs like “Welcome to America” are so affecting: we have in our minds a vision of what America should be for everyone, but we know that not everyone is living in that America. It’s like Lecrae is saying that the reason these trials are so awful is the fact that there is a better America out there. These things shouldn’t be happening because plenty of us exist without them.

It would seem that there are two Americas. There is the one where every child has a chance to grow up healthy and educated, the members of our proud military tradition are lauded and cared for, and immigrants are welcomed to the family with the opportunity to find refuge and to lend great contributions to the nation. Then there is the other America, in which children are treated like insignificant animals, veterans are left to poverty and subject to scorn, and immigrants are discriminated against or outright rejected from ever arriving.

Which of these Americas is real? Is one reality and the other a nostalgic memory of what we perceive as the good old days? Is one filtered through red white and blue sunglasses and the other subject to stark reality? Are they propaganda from politicians? Or can they both, truthfully, exist at the same time?

Consider these things as you consider your nation and your patriotism. It is well and good to be a proud American; there are many things of which to be proud. The United States is, in many respects, a great nation. But ask yourself why. Why are you proud to be an American? And what is America anyway? Because the nation that you love for the peace and prosperity it has brought you is the very same one that has brought horrible trials and tribulations to millions of others. Just because that’s not what someone thinks of when they say “Merica!” does not mean it is no less a part of “America.”

I tend to think, when I watch videos like “Welcome to America,” that this is just not the way it’s supposed to be. America is supposed to be so much more.

For all.

Confused by the blog’s new look? If you haven’t read yesterday’s post, then you should. It will clarify what’s going on here. Anyway, like, comment, subscribe/follow, post to Facebook and Twitter, email at pcd5834@gmail.com. Thank you for reading!

Soli Deo Gloria

Picking up the Pieces

ebenezer-rock

I can’t say I exactly know what to call this post. It’s too general and unimportant to be an open letter, too weary to be a re-birth, too modest to be a manifesto, and too refined to be a personal confession. It’s not just a space-filler, considering it’s been over a month since I’ve posted on the blog, and it’s not just “another” post about sports. I suppose it’s a notice of things to come, in anticipation of what will happen, forged by what’s happened, impacting what’s happening.

Around this time last year I decided that I was going to try to post something on  the blog close to every day. And I failed. Miserably. I wrote consistently for a couple weeks but it didn’t take long for me to give up on the venture.

A year later and I’ve received numerous reiterations of the all-important message for aspiring writers: write. A lot. I can’t ignore this forever if I ever want to really take writing seriously. I have to commit to the craft. And while my schoolwork has had me writing quite a lot, I’m still not at the daily recommended word diet (reading or writing) and classwork only lasts for so long.

So I’m going to try again. Really. I’m committing to writing something every day. That’s not to say something will be posted every day, as some days I might write part of a longer work to be posted later, or I may write something that is never meant to be on the blog (like, pipedreaming, a book). But something will get posted regularly. Maybe about sports, maybe not. Maybe a long post, maybe a short poem. Various and sundry might be the words for it.

This shift is coming for a number of reasons beyond the need to write prolifically. On the micro level, I’m still trying to make sense of the crater that exists in the wake of Wisconsin vs. Kentucky, and the aftershock that resulted in Wisconsin vs. Duke. A model for what was supposed to happen in college basketball existed, and an ICBM called Sam Dekker’s Step-Back blasted it into oblivion. Future events in basketball, at the collegiate and professional levels, changed dramatically from what was supposed to happen. It was one of those things in sports that makes you just sit and ponder at a loss for meaning.

We are also approaching the start of the NBA Playoffs, one of my most favorite sporting events. Night after night the fray plays out as we move through April and May towards the Finals. I’ll be watching a lot of this, occasionally nudging aside homework, sleep, and a social life, and I’m sure to have thoughts on this, and these thoughts may not be the kind of big picture narratives I typically spend time writing on. If I’m writing daily, that gives me more liberty to just scribble down a few thoughts on the way Anthony Davis defies logic.

On the macro level, this is a product of the changing world around me, the way I perceive it, and the ways in which I interact with it.

I don’t plan on being a sportswriter anymore. I love writing and I love sports, but the field of sports journalism is not for me. If you know me, you know that chasing down leads, putting myself out there, and working in a fast-paced deadline-driven environment are not my cups of tea. That’s not a career I want to pursue just so one day I can write columns that get re-tweeted a thousand times in an hour.

Am I still going to write about sports? Yes. And, if someone is willing to pay me to write about them on my own terms, I would jump at the opportunity.

Whether or not sports are involved, I will be a part of the writing process. I’m not sure what I want to do just yet, but it turns out that English is one of the most versatile majors out there. As one of my mentors said, “The better question with English is not what CAN you do, but what CAN’T you do.” Once upon a time I was disappointed that my college did not have a Journalism Major, but now I see how that has worked out for the better for me.

I am also finding, as I continue my studies, that I care about many things beyond sports, and that there are numerous things that can be and should be written about outside the sports world. That’s not at all to say that sports are not important or that social and cultural issues cannot be addressed through sports, but I don’t think I want to put all of my eggs into the athletics basket. And, if you follow my work, you know that I have already started to bring a balance to the content of my works.

The world is not so simple for me as it was a few years ago. I hadn’t confronted my homophobia and sexism, and I had yet to really develop my Christian faith. I failed to see how narrow and idealistic my political views were. I wasn’t aware of ethnocentrism, political corruption, and botched military expeditions. I had never considered the racism simmering in my own heart and the heart of the nation. I had never heard of Tamir Rice, Akai Gurley, Eric Garner, John Crawford, Walter Scott, Trayvon Martin, or Ferguson.

And I’m still young. I’ve seen just a little of the world. I will continue to learn how to see through the eyes of others, and to understand what I’m doing or saying that’s wrong. I’ll continue to learn how to lean on God, and my political views will evolve. More troubling things will happen in my government and my culture. More people will die. New challenges will arise. I will read more and hear more and have my understanding of humans and this temporal world challenged many times over.

I will watch and listen and learn and take part. And I will sit and think and read and write. I will add my chapter to this anthology of human culture and thought, playing the bard as the locomotive of society rumbles on.

Which brings me to the rather unfortunate casualty of this change. I don’t think I can be the SneakyGoodSportsGuy anymore, nor do I think I can rightfully call this the SneakyGoodSportsBlog. I did what I set out to do in September of 2011: I cleared some space on the internet and filled it with some of my thoughts on sports. And, though I have taken extended breaks now and then, and the content has sometimes strayed from the world of sports, readers have known this site as a sports blog, and I have come to be known as a sports guy. More than once, someone has asked me of a current topic, “Well what does Mr. SportsGuy think?” And while I will always proudly bear the standard of sneakygood, as that prefix will always accurately describe me, I cannot contain my craft within this alter ego forever. If I am to stamp my name, however small, on the world of writing, it won’t say “SneakyGoodSportsGuy.” That’s just reality. And sooner or later I have to let the Daft Punk hidden identity thing go. It’s time to turn the page to the next chapter, bringing an end to the era of the SneakyGoodSportsBlog and the Guy who wrote it.

Thank you readers. Especially those who have been with me from the jump. Positive feedback has kept me going when I would have otherwise quit. Let’s keep living and reading and writing and loving and learning.

So, for the last time,

Thank you for reading, Soli Deo Gloria,

The SneakyGoodSportsGuy