TATTOOS
First, to my three loyal fans (and to anyone else who happens to stumble across this blog). I am now signaling the spoiler alert. As you know, I normally travel down the silly path where this blog is concerned; however, for this post I am going to veer away from that path and go down a more serious road. Some might find what I have to say a bit poignant but I sincerely hope that is not the case. In an effort to increase self-awareness, I hope to provide something more evocative because I believe when we pay better attention to what we are doing, we do better.
To my two lovely daughters (and to anyone else who might flinch while reading the third paragraph). I am well aware that some of the language I use is not strictly "correct". Sometimes the heart feels a type of joy and excitement that cannot be described "correctly" so it must make up its own words and phrases. Why on earth do you think babies take so long to "learn" how to speak our limited language? You better bet your best blue bell-bottom britches that those babies are way smarter than we are and they understand our language perfectly, long before they ever speak it! The thing is, their hearts are so full of joy that they are not going to waste their time, dumbing down their language, just so we can keep up!
One final word or two before we get started... I am dedicating this blog entry to my first grade teacher, Mrs. Marilee Holmes, who was the inspiration for this post. It is a little well-known empirical fact, that Mrs. Holmes is the absolutest mostest greatest teacher ever, of all time, in the entire history of the entire universe! Furthermore, I am so very thrilled to report that she is still in the classroom going strong, profoundly influencing our world for the better, through the hearts and minds of the children who are so extraordinarily blessed to have her as their teacher! Between Kindergarten, public school, Stuntman school, Fire school, EMT school, Paramedic School and three tours of duty in college, I figure I have spent a combined total of about 24 years, compiling my educational career. That is quite a long time and given my struggles with dyscalculia, I have had more teachers than I am likely able to realistically count. I will not belabor my point any further but will simply say, without the slightest hint of hesitation but rather with all of the exuberance I can possibly muster, that Mrs. Holmes was by far, hands down, with second place not even in the same zip code, my mostestest favoritestestest teacher ever, of all time (in the entire history of the entire universe)!!! And THAT, my friends, is truly saying something because I had some of the most amazing cotton pickin' teachers you could ever imagine, while I was attending the University of North Texas! Libby Dorn, Jennifer Middleton and Brenda Sweeten immediately come to mind. No doubt you guys are thinking I'm just laying another one of my silly exaggerations on you, but I firmly believe that there is a very good chance you will totally agree with my assessment, silly or not, once you have read the specific things I have to say about each of these individuals, later in this post. But for now and for the entirety of this post... Mrs. Holmes, this one's for you!
One final word or two before we get started... I am dedicating this blog entry to my first grade teacher, Mrs. Marilee Holmes, who was the inspiration for this post. It is a little well-known empirical fact, that Mrs. Holmes is the absolutest mostest greatest teacher ever, of all time, in the entire history of the entire universe! Furthermore, I am so very thrilled to report that she is still in the classroom going strong, profoundly influencing our world for the better, through the hearts and minds of the children who are so extraordinarily blessed to have her as their teacher! Between Kindergarten, public school, Stuntman school, Fire school, EMT school, Paramedic School and three tours of duty in college, I figure I have spent a combined total of about 24 years, compiling my educational career. That is quite a long time and given my struggles with dyscalculia, I have had more teachers than I am likely able to realistically count. I will not belabor my point any further but will simply say, without the slightest hint of hesitation but rather with all of the exuberance I can possibly muster, that Mrs. Holmes was by far, hands down, with second place not even in the same zip code, my mostestest favoritestestest teacher ever, of all time (in the entire history of the entire universe)!!! And THAT, my friends, is truly saying something because I had some of the most amazing cotton pickin' teachers you could ever imagine, while I was attending the University of North Texas! Libby Dorn, Jennifer Middleton and Brenda Sweeten immediately come to mind. No doubt you guys are thinking I'm just laying another one of my silly exaggerations on you, but I firmly believe that there is a very good chance you will totally agree with my assessment, silly or not, once you have read the specific things I have to say about each of these individuals, later in this post. But for now and for the entirety of this post... Mrs. Holmes, this one's for you!
TATTOOS
When I was a kid, tattoos were nowhere near as prominent in our society as they are today. Back in those days, the few individuals who had tattoos primarily consisted of crusty old military guys and even that group could be paired down to predominantly former Navy men. It is entirely possible that bikers and hippies also had tattoos but we didn't exactly have an abundance of bikers and hippies in Odessa, Texas back then. I don't recall ever seeing any bikers but my mother and I would occasionally encounter a band or group or herd (or whatever the most current PC descriptor is) of hippies at the grocery store. I was always so mesmerized by them that I never really got a chance to notice if they had any tattoos or not, before my mother caught me staring and gave me one of her U.S. patented, well-placed, underarm sweet meat, bruise inducing pinches! Even now, just thinking about that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up! I just couldn't help it... those hippies were by far the wildest looking human beings I had ever seen up to that well-sheltered point in my short life! Whether they had tattoos or not, they were quite noticeably out of place in Odessa back then so everybody in town was staring, not just me! I suppose mother couldn't just go around pinching everyone in the Gibson's Discount Center, but I sure would have liked to have seen her try!
At any rate... Sailors, bikers and hippies no longer solely hold the franchise on tattoos. Now people from every corner of our society have them! Doctors, lawyers, nurses, preachers, ballplayers, school teachers, grandmothers, mailmen, dog catchers, landscape architects... essentially, if you can name em' they probably got em'. Furthermore, there is not a single solitary square centimeter on the human body that hasn't been covered in tattoo ink and that includes all of the "no-no" places, or as my kids call them... "the party parts". I have also seen where people have tattooed the inside of their mouths, on their tongues, under their eyelids... pretty much anywhere they could fit a tattooing machine I reckon'. Having said that, the one location I just can't seem to wrap my mind around is the eyeball! It's true! You can Google it! However, I think the craziest thing I have seen was where someone had their infant baby tattooed! I'm thinking they had to have been hippies. Oh yes, they walk among us... I don't want to sound like I've got it in for hippies or anything but THAT is just plain DUMB! I know one thing... I sure would hate to be the parent that has to someday deal with the ramifications of that decision. Can you imagine little Johnny bursting through the back door after school, madder than a wet cat that got into your crazy uncle Elroy's crystal meth?!! ~~~~~ "Little Johnny, what on earth has upset you so?" ~~~~~ "Why did you do this to me?!! I HATE YOU AND I NEVER EVER WANT TO SEE YOU OR TALK TO YOU EVER AGAIN IN MY LIFE!!!" ~~~~~~ "Oh Dear! Little Johnny, please come sit down and have a yogurt and Brussels sprout taco and a warm glass of chicken's milk to calm down, and then you can tell me all about what's bothering you." ~~~~~ "All *sniff, sniff* of the other boys at school *sniff* are making fun of me *sniff-sniff* because I *sniff-sniff* PEE SITTING DOWN!!!....WWWAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAA!" ~~~~~ "Well...um...Little Johnny...um, why do.....um....what makes you think you have to...uh... sit down to pee?" ~~~~~~~ "Well, I always thought the reason you had that 'pee-sign' tattoo put on my bottom, was so I would always remember to sit down to pee!" ~~~~~~ (Sorry, I know I said I was going to be serious this post but I just couldn't help myself... I just had to squirt that one out...) All I can say is, I am so glad my parents had the wisdom to just get me the old "lick and stick" tattoos...
The reasons people get tattoos are no doubt as vast and varied as the people who get them and it would be pointless to try to compile an exhaustive list; however, as vast and varied as the people and there reasons might be, doesn't change the fact that all tattoos have many things in common. For example, almost all tattoos (in our society) exist because the owners chose to get them. They chose the design and the colors and the location and the artist. No doubt many of those individuals later wished that they had not made that choice but at the time they got them, they did. This kind of leads into my next point, which is all tattoos are permanent. Another commonality is that since tattoos are in the skin, the owners can choose to hide most of them with various articles of clothing. Finally, like pretty much everything else, some tattoos are elaborate and beautiful and tasteful, while others are hideous and vulgar and gross. Some signify hate and anger, while others peace and love. In short, they convey a message. Therefore, it naturally stands to reason that some tattoos contain no message at all, but simply just are.
I'm going to take a wild shot in the dark here and say that so far, I likely haven't said anything about tattoos that revealed anything new or provided any kind of profound enlightenment, at least not as far as the traditional "ink-in-skin" tattoos are concerned. That is because this post is about tattoos of a different kind. These tattoos are similar to traditional ink tattoos in some ways but in many others, they are very different. For example, these tattoos are like ink tattoos in as much as, they are permanent, perhaps even more so; however, everyone on the planet has some of these tattoos but neither the design, nor the location, nor (in most cases) the artist was chosen. We can't hide these tattoos with clothing either, so everyone sees them, whether we want them to or not. That is because these tattoos are always placed on our hearts and they reflect the work of the artists who placed them there. These artists are the people and events that have profoundly impacted our lives and like ink tattoos, some are very beautiful, while others can be quite gruesome. Also unlike ink tattoos, these possess something of a holographic quality and although we cannot hide them, we ultimately choose which side of the holograph is seen by others. In order to better illustrate this concept, I will share the stories of two dogs I once owned, Rocky and Cooper.
Rocky and Cooper
Rocky was a big and beautiful German shepherd that came into my life about a year or two after I graduated from high school. The story I got was that while he was still a pup, he had been sent to be trained as an attack/guard dog. For whatever reason, he was pulled out of training about midway through the program and somehow wound up with abusive owners. I would be willing to bet, that is when he acquired his "ugly" tattoo. From what I understand, he eventually became so vicious that he would attack anyone or anything that went near him and was reportedly already scheduled to be euthanized when a very good dog trainer came across him and convinced the powers that be, to let him take Rocky home and work with him for a while. So the trainer took Rocky home and initially, he was as mean as advertised and even tried to attack the trainer on a number of occasions. Through it all, the trainer apparently saw something in Rocky that led him to believe it was not in his true nature to be so aggressive, because he kept at him until eventually, Rocky overcame his angry viciousness and became a gentle, loving and loyal companion. Right about the time Rocky's transformation was complete, the trainer had to make room for some new canine clients so he had to find Rocky a new home. As it turns out, the trainer just so happened to be the older brother of a friend of mine, who knew I loved shepherds and that I had owned a few in the past. So Rocky and I were a pretty good fit. I was blessed to have Rocky for several years and I am happy to say that I never saw the vicious side of his tattoo. I only ever saw the side that displayed his remarkable resilience and noble character.
Cooper also got his unsightly tattoo when he was a pup, courtesy of his abusive owners. At some point he was rescued but the people who rescued him were unable to keep him. So they took him to a friend of mine who was also unable to keep him but who found Cooper a home with me. I don't remember exactly how old Cooper was when I got him but it was sometime before his first birthday. When I first met him he seemed relatively happy but he would always cower down at first, whenever I would go near him. It was much the same whenever I would call him. He would come up smiling and wagging his tail but as he drew nearer, he would cower down closer and closer to the ground. Even if I had never heard his story, I would have known he had been abused. It was just that painfully obvious to detect in his behavior. I kept Cooper well loved and well fed for 14 years and even after all of that time, he continued to show the side of his tattoo that revealed his inner anxieties.
It would probably make for a very lengthy discussion but the bottom line is, nobody will ever really know how or why both of these dogs started out with very similar tattoos but for some reason, revealed them in completely different ways.
When I was a small boy, you could have searched the world many times over and would have only come up with a small handful of children who were as eager and excited to start school as I was. I literally couldn't wait! If you've read some of my previous posts, then you know of my hero, my grandmother. In those days she owned her own real estate business but in her very first career, she had been a school teacher. In fact, she began her teaching career in a small country school in a little old one-room school house. Anyway, I was too impatient to wait for Kindergarten so grandmother was all too happy to start me off on the basics. Perhaps that was part of the problem because once I finally began Kindergarten, I seem to remember feeling like I was always waiting for the other kids to catch up. I don't necessarily think I was any smarter than the other kids, it's just that in many cases I had already covered the material. Whatever it was, Kindergarten wound up being a complete, misery laden disaster! I remember going with my mother to meet the teacher. She was about 10 or 15 years older than my mother and she seemed nice enough but honestly, she really didn't impress me much. Somebody can jump in and confirm or correct me if I'm wrong but I don't think Kindergarten was mandatory those days in Texas. In fact, I don't think it was even offered in public schools until a year or two later. At any rate, my Kindergarten "school" was nothing more than the old hag's.... I mean "teacher's" (who in reality was the daughter of Satan) garage, that had been converted into a "classroom". This essentially served as the false-front for the scam she had created to swindle the hard earned money of gullible, unsuspecting parents. Seriously though, I have no idea why but that woman absolutely hated me! And it was through her that I learned all too well, the definition of a bully and what it felt like to be bullied. I am thoroughly convinced that she did not consider her day a success, unless she made me cry at some point during the day. I don't remember the exact number but there were roughly 20 kids in that class. However, I do remember that there was only one member of that class who ever got screamed at (not yelled at).... who ever got licks, not just once, but several times.... who ever got licks in front of the entire class... who was ever made to stay in from recess every day..... and who ever got their snack (a small cup of milk or juice and a cookie) withheld on most days. And if that wasn't enough, Mrs. Dragon Breath had a cookout at the end of the school year for all of the students and their parents. That is, all except one. She told me that my family and I were not invited because I had been too ugly in class. I know all of this sounds really crazy and I truly wish I was just making it all up... but unfortunately, it's the undeniable truth.
So my first grade year rolls around and I was still very eager to learn, but now I was really dreading the whole idea of going to school. So when my mother told me it was time to go meet the teacher.... well, let's just say I didn't exactly skip to the car. At any rate, off we go to see Lamar Elementary and meet the new teacher, with me wishing I was in any other car in town at that moment than ours. We pull up to the school and fortunately, it didn't look anything like some old hag's converted garage... it was ginormous! I remember walking to the classroom to meet the teacher and I was behind my mother, looking at the floor and dragging my feet. We get to the classroom door and I am tentatively trying to peak in. I guess I thought if I saw her before she saw me and I didn't like what I saw, then I could run and hide down in Mexico and nobody would be the wiser. All I know for sure is... I will never ever forget the first time I stepped into the classroom of the greatest teacher ever, of all time, in the entire history.....(you get the idea). I felt like I had just stepped into a ray of warm sunshine and every ache, every pain and every sadness was being washed away by that warmth. I could go on and on but I will try to exercise at least a little self control... I don't think I could ever put into words how special first grade was for me. Mrs. Holmes was thoroughly, and in every way, the complete and total antithesis of everything my Kindergarten teacher had been. To this day, I feel like I am her most favorite student ever, of all time, in the...... But part of the magic of Mrs Holmes is that I have no doubt there are big yellow school bus loads full of her former students, that feel exactly the same way. Except for the years I went to UNT, it was the only year I attended school that I couldn't wait to get there every morning!
So even though my Kindergarten hag had used her gruesome talons to scrape out a pretty hideous tattoo, you would never know it because of the many beautiful tattoos Mrs. Holmes gracefully created. Tattoos like "everyone deserves to be treated as if they are special" ~~~~~ "You don't have to yell or scream to get your point across. Speaking with a soft voice and kind warm eyes makes a much bigger impression" ~~~~~ "Being kind and fair to someone will encourage them to do more than bullying will"~~~~~ "Being patient, friendly and nice isn't mandatory but it is the right thing to do"~~~~~ "Holding a grudge is not a requirement"~~~~~ and many, many more.
We had something of a problem child in our first grade class and if I remember correctly, her name was Veronica. It may not have been that often, but it seemed like there were quite a few mornings that Mrs. Holmes sent Veronica to the principal's office. I seem to remember it being one of those very predictable things... Veronica would start acting up and Mrs. Holmes would respond. Then Veronica would keep getting worse and Mrs. Holmes' patience would keep getting thinner until finally, Veronica would have to go to the principal's office. What always amazed me was how Mrs. Holmes treated Veronica when she returned to the classroom. She never showed any indication of feeling any tension toward Veronica... she never appeared to hold a grudge.... nothing. It was as if nothing had ever happened. Of course Mrs. Holmes might tell a totally different story. I'm just remembering the view from the cheap seats.
It wasn't long after I went into the second grade that I started hating school again and I pretty much hated it every day from then on, until I got to UNT and then it was like the magic of Mrs. Holmes just sprung to life inside of me all over again! I think this was in no small part due to the people I mentioned by name earlier in this post. They are all great teachers but what is truly amazing about each of them, is their tattoo artistry.
First is Libby Dorn. I think of my "Libby Dorn" tattoo as something of a question mark, because Libby impressed upon me the power of the question. Asking someone a question not only prods them for an answer but also directs their thinking. Asking yourself a question can direct your own thinking. Trying to think of the perfect question to ask someone, so as to direct their thinking, can REALLY direct your own thinking. Questions generate answers and answers bring about change. There are a lot of things in this world that need to change but nothing begins unless someone first asks a question. There may be a lot of things in my heart that need to change but I will never know if I do not first ask the question; however, if I refuse to ask the question, I can only become one thing and that is... close-minded. I found this to be very applicable in my bible reading. I used to say (and think) I read so that I could, "learn more about the Lord and be a better servant." But that wasn't entirely true, not really. If I am completely honest, I primarily had two goals in mind... one was to commit more scriptures to memory so I would be able to spout them out at opportune times and the other was to find the "proof" that supported my long held (unquestioned) beliefs. That is no longer my approach. Now I always ask a question before I begin reading and that is, "What does the Lord truly want me to learn today?". So to Libby Dorn I say... Thank you for this very special tattoo. It is a perpetual life-changer!
Next is Jennifer Middleton. A few years back when the Cowboys were about to face the Redskins, Jimmy Johnson told his players, "When you hit a big gorilla, you don't ever hit him lightly... you hit him with everything you've got!!!". I have to say I dearly love my "Jennifer Middleton" tattoo! I think it's because it reminds me so much of the tattoos placed by Traci, my wife. If you know Traci then you know that when she smiles, she doesn't just smile with her face, she smiles with her entire body! She is actually that way about a lot of things... she doesn't just do them but does them with everything she's got! Jennifer exemplifies encouragement and when you are being encouraged by her, you feel like you are receiving more than just a word of motivation and a placating pat on the back. You feel as if you are getting the full force of all of positive energy she can muster! The more I try to display this tattoo, the more I am finding how complex encouraging others can be. It's not the act of encouraging that gives me trouble so much as divorcing myself from the outcome. When I encourage someone, I truly want them to succeed but I tend to want them to succeed in the way I directed. So I am really working toward "encouragement without investment". Then I can display pure encouragement, which is a more accurate representation of my "Jennifer" tattoo. That requires me to avoid my urges to guide and/or direct and simply be a source of encouragement... Period! Then everyone can cherish my "Jennifer Middleton" tattoo as much as I genuinely do!
My "Brenda Sweeten" tattoo is the most difficult to display, because it represents class in its purest, most complex form. It sits on a foundation of essential core elements and is held together with one vital component, which for me is a real problem because that one component tends to be contrary to my nature. You always hear of the importance of having integrity and how that leads to being more credible. That requires you to pay attention, speak the truth and be accountable. I do not struggle with any of those things but there is one more vital quality that binds all of those others together and if you do not possess that one quality, the whole thing falls apart. That one quality is the ability to keep your emotions in check. I know pretty much all of you will refuse to believe it, but it's true... on very rare occasions, I have been known to have, what only one or two people on this earth would call, a hot temper. Emotion sometimes really gets in my way so how I generally handle it is to give in and go ahead and throw my fit. Then I am quickly rid of the emotion and I can proceed with complete calm. The problem is, if I am going to accurately exhibit my "Brenda" tattoo, I do not have that luxury. A bad temper in and of itself isn't necessarily wrong but it tends to call into question your accountability, which eats away at your credibility and all of the other components that make up class. So even though I struggle, I am determined to display my priceless "Brenda Sweeten" tattoo!
The point I really want my readers to absorb about all of these wonderful tattoos I have just discussed, is that each one has a hideous counterpart. It is the other side of the holograph. However, I choose to focus on the beautiful side of the holograph. I talk about it, I write about it, I try to let those feelings of beauty shine through the pictures I draw the poetry I write and even the lures I make. The truth is, it isn't always easy and I don't always succeed but that doesn't change the fact that this is the choice I have made. It is a choice that we all have the God-given right to make!
Okay, I have said quite a lot about the many aspects of different types of tattoos, with particular focus on the artists who created them. I realize this is running way longer than my normal posts and you guys are likely growing weary... However, none of the things I have previously discussed are what this post is truly about. (I can just hear the collective groans) Good News! I am now (FINALLY) going to get to what this post is about, and that is...
At any rate... Sailors, bikers and hippies no longer solely hold the franchise on tattoos. Now people from every corner of our society have them! Doctors, lawyers, nurses, preachers, ballplayers, school teachers, grandmothers, mailmen, dog catchers, landscape architects... essentially, if you can name em' they probably got em'. Furthermore, there is not a single solitary square centimeter on the human body that hasn't been covered in tattoo ink and that includes all of the "no-no" places, or as my kids call them... "the party parts". I have also seen where people have tattooed the inside of their mouths, on their tongues, under their eyelids... pretty much anywhere they could fit a tattooing machine I reckon'. Having said that, the one location I just can't seem to wrap my mind around is the eyeball! It's true! You can Google it! However, I think the craziest thing I have seen was where someone had their infant baby tattooed! I'm thinking they had to have been hippies. Oh yes, they walk among us... I don't want to sound like I've got it in for hippies or anything but THAT is just plain DUMB! I know one thing... I sure would hate to be the parent that has to someday deal with the ramifications of that decision. Can you imagine little Johnny bursting through the back door after school, madder than a wet cat that got into your crazy uncle Elroy's crystal meth?!! ~~~~~ "Little Johnny, what on earth has upset you so?" ~~~~~ "Why did you do this to me?!! I HATE YOU AND I NEVER EVER WANT TO SEE YOU OR TALK TO YOU EVER AGAIN IN MY LIFE!!!" ~~~~~~ "Oh Dear! Little Johnny, please come sit down and have a yogurt and Brussels sprout taco and a warm glass of chicken's milk to calm down, and then you can tell me all about what's bothering you." ~~~~~ "All *sniff, sniff* of the other boys at school *sniff* are making fun of me *sniff-sniff* because I *sniff-sniff* PEE SITTING DOWN!!!....WWWAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAA!" ~~~~~ "Well...um...Little Johnny...um, why do.....um....what makes you think you have to...uh... sit down to pee?" ~~~~~~~ "Well, I always thought the reason you had that 'pee-sign' tattoo put on my bottom, was so I would always remember to sit down to pee!" ~~~~~~ (Sorry, I know I said I was going to be serious this post but I just couldn't help myself... I just had to squirt that one out...) All I can say is, I am so glad my parents had the wisdom to just get me the old "lick and stick" tattoos...
The reasons people get tattoos are no doubt as vast and varied as the people who get them and it would be pointless to try to compile an exhaustive list; however, as vast and varied as the people and there reasons might be, doesn't change the fact that all tattoos have many things in common. For example, almost all tattoos (in our society) exist because the owners chose to get them. They chose the design and the colors and the location and the artist. No doubt many of those individuals later wished that they had not made that choice but at the time they got them, they did. This kind of leads into my next point, which is all tattoos are permanent. Another commonality is that since tattoos are in the skin, the owners can choose to hide most of them with various articles of clothing. Finally, like pretty much everything else, some tattoos are elaborate and beautiful and tasteful, while others are hideous and vulgar and gross. Some signify hate and anger, while others peace and love. In short, they convey a message. Therefore, it naturally stands to reason that some tattoos contain no message at all, but simply just are.
I'm going to take a wild shot in the dark here and say that so far, I likely haven't said anything about tattoos that revealed anything new or provided any kind of profound enlightenment, at least not as far as the traditional "ink-in-skin" tattoos are concerned. That is because this post is about tattoos of a different kind. These tattoos are similar to traditional ink tattoos in some ways but in many others, they are very different. For example, these tattoos are like ink tattoos in as much as, they are permanent, perhaps even more so; however, everyone on the planet has some of these tattoos but neither the design, nor the location, nor (in most cases) the artist was chosen. We can't hide these tattoos with clothing either, so everyone sees them, whether we want them to or not. That is because these tattoos are always placed on our hearts and they reflect the work of the artists who placed them there. These artists are the people and events that have profoundly impacted our lives and like ink tattoos, some are very beautiful, while others can be quite gruesome. Also unlike ink tattoos, these possess something of a holographic quality and although we cannot hide them, we ultimately choose which side of the holograph is seen by others. In order to better illustrate this concept, I will share the stories of two dogs I once owned, Rocky and Cooper.
Rocky and Cooper
Rocky was a big and beautiful German shepherd that came into my life about a year or two after I graduated from high school. The story I got was that while he was still a pup, he had been sent to be trained as an attack/guard dog. For whatever reason, he was pulled out of training about midway through the program and somehow wound up with abusive owners. I would be willing to bet, that is when he acquired his "ugly" tattoo. From what I understand, he eventually became so vicious that he would attack anyone or anything that went near him and was reportedly already scheduled to be euthanized when a very good dog trainer came across him and convinced the powers that be, to let him take Rocky home and work with him for a while. So the trainer took Rocky home and initially, he was as mean as advertised and even tried to attack the trainer on a number of occasions. Through it all, the trainer apparently saw something in Rocky that led him to believe it was not in his true nature to be so aggressive, because he kept at him until eventually, Rocky overcame his angry viciousness and became a gentle, loving and loyal companion. Right about the time Rocky's transformation was complete, the trainer had to make room for some new canine clients so he had to find Rocky a new home. As it turns out, the trainer just so happened to be the older brother of a friend of mine, who knew I loved shepherds and that I had owned a few in the past. So Rocky and I were a pretty good fit. I was blessed to have Rocky for several years and I am happy to say that I never saw the vicious side of his tattoo. I only ever saw the side that displayed his remarkable resilience and noble character.
Cooper also got his unsightly tattoo when he was a pup, courtesy of his abusive owners. At some point he was rescued but the people who rescued him were unable to keep him. So they took him to a friend of mine who was also unable to keep him but who found Cooper a home with me. I don't remember exactly how old Cooper was when I got him but it was sometime before his first birthday. When I first met him he seemed relatively happy but he would always cower down at first, whenever I would go near him. It was much the same whenever I would call him. He would come up smiling and wagging his tail but as he drew nearer, he would cower down closer and closer to the ground. Even if I had never heard his story, I would have known he had been abused. It was just that painfully obvious to detect in his behavior. I kept Cooper well loved and well fed for 14 years and even after all of that time, he continued to show the side of his tattoo that revealed his inner anxieties.
It would probably make for a very lengthy discussion but the bottom line is, nobody will ever really know how or why both of these dogs started out with very similar tattoos but for some reason, revealed them in completely different ways.
When I was a small boy, you could have searched the world many times over and would have only come up with a small handful of children who were as eager and excited to start school as I was. I literally couldn't wait! If you've read some of my previous posts, then you know of my hero, my grandmother. In those days she owned her own real estate business but in her very first career, she had been a school teacher. In fact, she began her teaching career in a small country school in a little old one-room school house. Anyway, I was too impatient to wait for Kindergarten so grandmother was all too happy to start me off on the basics. Perhaps that was part of the problem because once I finally began Kindergarten, I seem to remember feeling like I was always waiting for the other kids to catch up. I don't necessarily think I was any smarter than the other kids, it's just that in many cases I had already covered the material. Whatever it was, Kindergarten wound up being a complete, misery laden disaster! I remember going with my mother to meet the teacher. She was about 10 or 15 years older than my mother and she seemed nice enough but honestly, she really didn't impress me much. Somebody can jump in and confirm or correct me if I'm wrong but I don't think Kindergarten was mandatory those days in Texas. In fact, I don't think it was even offered in public schools until a year or two later. At any rate, my Kindergarten "school" was nothing more than the old hag's.... I mean "teacher's" (who in reality was the daughter of Satan) garage, that had been converted into a "classroom". This essentially served as the false-front for the scam she had created to swindle the hard earned money of gullible, unsuspecting parents. Seriously though, I have no idea why but that woman absolutely hated me! And it was through her that I learned all too well, the definition of a bully and what it felt like to be bullied. I am thoroughly convinced that she did not consider her day a success, unless she made me cry at some point during the day. I don't remember the exact number but there were roughly 20 kids in that class. However, I do remember that there was only one member of that class who ever got screamed at (not yelled at).... who ever got licks, not just once, but several times.... who ever got licks in front of the entire class... who was ever made to stay in from recess every day..... and who ever got their snack (a small cup of milk or juice and a cookie) withheld on most days. And if that wasn't enough, Mrs. Dragon Breath had a cookout at the end of the school year for all of the students and their parents. That is, all except one. She told me that my family and I were not invited because I had been too ugly in class. I know all of this sounds really crazy and I truly wish I was just making it all up... but unfortunately, it's the undeniable truth.
So my first grade year rolls around and I was still very eager to learn, but now I was really dreading the whole idea of going to school. So when my mother told me it was time to go meet the teacher.... well, let's just say I didn't exactly skip to the car. At any rate, off we go to see Lamar Elementary and meet the new teacher, with me wishing I was in any other car in town at that moment than ours. We pull up to the school and fortunately, it didn't look anything like some old hag's converted garage... it was ginormous! I remember walking to the classroom to meet the teacher and I was behind my mother, looking at the floor and dragging my feet. We get to the classroom door and I am tentatively trying to peak in. I guess I thought if I saw her before she saw me and I didn't like what I saw, then I could run and hide down in Mexico and nobody would be the wiser. All I know for sure is... I will never ever forget the first time I stepped into the classroom of the greatest teacher ever, of all time, in the entire history.....(you get the idea). I felt like I had just stepped into a ray of warm sunshine and every ache, every pain and every sadness was being washed away by that warmth. I could go on and on but I will try to exercise at least a little self control... I don't think I could ever put into words how special first grade was for me. Mrs. Holmes was thoroughly, and in every way, the complete and total antithesis of everything my Kindergarten teacher had been. To this day, I feel like I am her most favorite student ever, of all time, in the...... But part of the magic of Mrs Holmes is that I have no doubt there are big yellow school bus loads full of her former students, that feel exactly the same way. Except for the years I went to UNT, it was the only year I attended school that I couldn't wait to get there every morning!
So even though my Kindergarten hag had used her gruesome talons to scrape out a pretty hideous tattoo, you would never know it because of the many beautiful tattoos Mrs. Holmes gracefully created. Tattoos like "everyone deserves to be treated as if they are special" ~~~~~ "You don't have to yell or scream to get your point across. Speaking with a soft voice and kind warm eyes makes a much bigger impression" ~~~~~ "Being kind and fair to someone will encourage them to do more than bullying will"~~~~~ "Being patient, friendly and nice isn't mandatory but it is the right thing to do"~~~~~ "Holding a grudge is not a requirement"~~~~~ and many, many more.
We had something of a problem child in our first grade class and if I remember correctly, her name was Veronica. It may not have been that often, but it seemed like there were quite a few mornings that Mrs. Holmes sent Veronica to the principal's office. I seem to remember it being one of those very predictable things... Veronica would start acting up and Mrs. Holmes would respond. Then Veronica would keep getting worse and Mrs. Holmes' patience would keep getting thinner until finally, Veronica would have to go to the principal's office. What always amazed me was how Mrs. Holmes treated Veronica when she returned to the classroom. She never showed any indication of feeling any tension toward Veronica... she never appeared to hold a grudge.... nothing. It was as if nothing had ever happened. Of course Mrs. Holmes might tell a totally different story. I'm just remembering the view from the cheap seats.
It wasn't long after I went into the second grade that I started hating school again and I pretty much hated it every day from then on, until I got to UNT and then it was like the magic of Mrs. Holmes just sprung to life inside of me all over again! I think this was in no small part due to the people I mentioned by name earlier in this post. They are all great teachers but what is truly amazing about each of them, is their tattoo artistry.
First is Libby Dorn. I think of my "Libby Dorn" tattoo as something of a question mark, because Libby impressed upon me the power of the question. Asking someone a question not only prods them for an answer but also directs their thinking. Asking yourself a question can direct your own thinking. Trying to think of the perfect question to ask someone, so as to direct their thinking, can REALLY direct your own thinking. Questions generate answers and answers bring about change. There are a lot of things in this world that need to change but nothing begins unless someone first asks a question. There may be a lot of things in my heart that need to change but I will never know if I do not first ask the question; however, if I refuse to ask the question, I can only become one thing and that is... close-minded. I found this to be very applicable in my bible reading. I used to say (and think) I read so that I could, "learn more about the Lord and be a better servant." But that wasn't entirely true, not really. If I am completely honest, I primarily had two goals in mind... one was to commit more scriptures to memory so I would be able to spout them out at opportune times and the other was to find the "proof" that supported my long held (unquestioned) beliefs. That is no longer my approach. Now I always ask a question before I begin reading and that is, "What does the Lord truly want me to learn today?". So to Libby Dorn I say... Thank you for this very special tattoo. It is a perpetual life-changer!
Next is Jennifer Middleton. A few years back when the Cowboys were about to face the Redskins, Jimmy Johnson told his players, "When you hit a big gorilla, you don't ever hit him lightly... you hit him with everything you've got!!!". I have to say I dearly love my "Jennifer Middleton" tattoo! I think it's because it reminds me so much of the tattoos placed by Traci, my wife. If you know Traci then you know that when she smiles, she doesn't just smile with her face, she smiles with her entire body! She is actually that way about a lot of things... she doesn't just do them but does them with everything she's got! Jennifer exemplifies encouragement and when you are being encouraged by her, you feel like you are receiving more than just a word of motivation and a placating pat on the back. You feel as if you are getting the full force of all of positive energy she can muster! The more I try to display this tattoo, the more I am finding how complex encouraging others can be. It's not the act of encouraging that gives me trouble so much as divorcing myself from the outcome. When I encourage someone, I truly want them to succeed but I tend to want them to succeed in the way I directed. So I am really working toward "encouragement without investment". Then I can display pure encouragement, which is a more accurate representation of my "Jennifer" tattoo. That requires me to avoid my urges to guide and/or direct and simply be a source of encouragement... Period! Then everyone can cherish my "Jennifer Middleton" tattoo as much as I genuinely do!
My "Brenda Sweeten" tattoo is the most difficult to display, because it represents class in its purest, most complex form. It sits on a foundation of essential core elements and is held together with one vital component, which for me is a real problem because that one component tends to be contrary to my nature. You always hear of the importance of having integrity and how that leads to being more credible. That requires you to pay attention, speak the truth and be accountable. I do not struggle with any of those things but there is one more vital quality that binds all of those others together and if you do not possess that one quality, the whole thing falls apart. That one quality is the ability to keep your emotions in check. I know pretty much all of you will refuse to believe it, but it's true... on very rare occasions, I have been known to have, what only one or two people on this earth would call, a hot temper. Emotion sometimes really gets in my way so how I generally handle it is to give in and go ahead and throw my fit. Then I am quickly rid of the emotion and I can proceed with complete calm. The problem is, if I am going to accurately exhibit my "Brenda" tattoo, I do not have that luxury. A bad temper in and of itself isn't necessarily wrong but it tends to call into question your accountability, which eats away at your credibility and all of the other components that make up class. So even though I struggle, I am determined to display my priceless "Brenda Sweeten" tattoo!
The point I really want my readers to absorb about all of these wonderful tattoos I have just discussed, is that each one has a hideous counterpart. It is the other side of the holograph. However, I choose to focus on the beautiful side of the holograph. I talk about it, I write about it, I try to let those feelings of beauty shine through the pictures I draw the poetry I write and even the lures I make. The truth is, it isn't always easy and I don't always succeed but that doesn't change the fact that this is the choice I have made. It is a choice that we all have the God-given right to make!
Okay, I have said quite a lot about the many aspects of different types of tattoos, with particular focus on the artists who created them. I realize this is running way longer than my normal posts and you guys are likely growing weary... However, none of the things I have previously discussed are what this post is truly about. (I can just hear the collective groans) Good News! I am now (FINALLY) going to get to what this post is about, and that is...
What kind of tattoo artist are you?
Oh snap! No, I didn't stutter... What kind of artist are you? How does your dog greet you every day? Does he run up with a big smile and bright eyes and tail wagging? Or does he cower down and look anxious? What about your spouse? Does he or she greet you with a kiss, or do they act like you were standing there all along? Maybe they even try to avoid you altogether... Most importantly, what kind of tattoos are you placing on the hearts of your children? Do they leave you alone because they are afraid of what might happen if they bother you? Or do they take comfort in knowing they can come to you anytime, day or night, and be welcomed with love? Do your children step out into the world and cower down like Cooper? Or do they step out confidently, with noble character like Rocky? Have you given them tattoos of resilience, so someday when you are gone they can overcome? Or have you given them Tattoos of helplessness, so they will always have to depend on others?
We all go through life, giving and receiving tattoos. I prefer to believe that the better we give, the better we receive, but that does not make it your truth. I also choose to show the bright side of the holographs and do my best to be the best tattoo artist I can be. That is a choice you have to make for yourself, all on your own, because it's not just a "one and done" decision. It is one you have to make every second. I only ask that you please be aware of the fact that every second of your life, you are in the tattoo business.
In closing, I would just like to say a final word to Mrs. Holmes... I could never express the depth of my gratitude for the truly exquisite tattoos you placed on my heart, all those years ago. Without question they helped me heal from the wounds of the previous year, but they also sustained me through many dark and traumatic times that were yet to come and they are still some of my most comforting and influential tattoos. I never have to look any further than my own children, to see a reflection of those tattoos and they are beautiful! And I want you to know that those tattoos you gave me, that I have now passed on to my children, shine just as bright today as the day you gave them to me. Thank you!
