Violated!!

I'm finally calming down. Actually, I calmed down a couple of hours ago, but this is my first opportunity to sit down at the 'pooter and put fingers to keyboard. So last night (Sunday), at about 10 p.m. we were sitting in the living room watching TV when I heard a rustling in the bushes outside the living room window, four thumps on the dining room window in rapid succession, then a car speeding away. We were both confused and surprised; I put on my shoes and went outside. I looked up and down the street, but saw no sign of anyone.

Someone shot our front window with four bright orange paintballs. I didn't even notice them at first, nor did Michelle. I was furious. What in the Hell is wrong with people? I really wish I'd reacted a bit sooner. Maybe if I'd been out the front door a little faster, I could have gotten a license plate or the make/model of the car. I called the police. They sent a cruiser to check out the neighborhood. He must have been a really great cop because he flew through going about 45 mph. Only the finest cop eyes could carefully inspect the other houses for orange paintball marks at that speed.

I took a pass around the neighborhood to see if anyone else got hit and see if, just maybe, I could spot the petit merdes that were, at that point, the tiny little center of my rage. There weren't many cars out on the street and I didn't see any marks on the other houses, but many of them did not have their exterior lights on. When I got home, we wiped the paint off the window and cleaned up the splatter. In the light of day, we noticed more orange splatter in hard to reach places. Thankfully, the paint doesn't seem to dry very quickly and has an oily texture.

There's something deeply personal about this event. I don't think these kids would have any understanding of what it is to make a home and to feel an emotional connection to it. They obviously do not grasp respect for other people or the sanctity of their homes. I don't expect them to get caught, but I would really like to discuss with them and their parents how their actions affected us. Really, I'd like to kick them in the balls, but I'm trying to take the high road here.

Tattoo done(ish)...

So, Santa Cruz was fun. I picked up Ian in at his place in SF and we cruised down the Penninsula with little to no traffic. We got to Pleasure Point and hooked up with Benja for a pre-tattoo feast of personal size pizza and salad at Round Table (convenience, not cuisine, was the deciding factor here).

The new shop is nice, but it's more of the traditional tattoo shop feel with cubbies for each artist separated by half walls. This way, passers by, onlookers, gawkers, whatever, can see the whole thing go down and ask insightful questions like "gee, does it hurt?"

So, Benja got all set up, and, for a moment, there was some concern that there wouldn't be enough of the primary blue we were using for the dragon (this would make for a rough day), but he managed to eke out enough to get the job done. Once the machine started buzzing, all was right with the world. It was a nice time catching up with both Benja and Ian and we had a grand time listening to tunes, talking about tattoos, politics, spirituality, life, etc... If you need an image, picture an all male Mensa biker sewing circle where the needles are used to push ink into flesh rather than thread into fabric. Can you see it?

We did somewhere between 4-5 hours of work and I was really excited when Ben told me we'd be able to finish the main elements in this sitting. You've got to understand, this tattoo is over a year in the making, and I was so busy in the latter half of 2006 that I couldn't make it down for my monthly sitting. My other half sleeve (the Koi) sat unfinished for about eight years and I ended up having it finished by another artist (Rob at Hot Ink Tattoo in Vallejo). I did not want to let that happen again!! So, but for some detail work (more swirling, pearly effects on the elbow, adding more flowers and clouds below the elbow) and touch ups (re-doing all the black clouds because my skin doesn't hold black well) we're DONE.

Now, I try never to make fun of someone who's getting tattooed, but... There was a guy getting some sanskrit lettering on the inside of his upper arms (one side was new, the other he was having touched up) at Felix's station. That part of the arm is pretty tender, but this was a pretty small tattoo. Well, this dude was lying on a table while Felix was working on him and he was wincing, and gritting his teeth like it was the end of the world. I was in a fair amount of pain when Benja lined the inside of my arm, but we spent, oh, I dunno, five hours in there. This couldn't have taken more than an hour and a half to do the whole deal - tops.

The best part was, we were wrapping up and doing the witch hazel treatment while this guy was getting wrapped up, and apparently, even the bandage was sharp. Felix put the thing on him and he threw his head to the side and winced as though somebody had lit afire a very tender and intimate part of his anatomy. Then, with a tiny little tear in his eye, he looked over at us with this look that said, oh, It huuuurrtsss... He then noticed that the insides of both of my arms are completely covered, elbow to armpit and that Ian's arms are about 75% covered. Then the shame kicked in and he didn't look at us again.

Dude's wife got a small tattoo done on her shoulder after he was done and she took it a helluva lot better than he did. She was uncomfortable, but she wasn't being all dramatic about it. And, to top it all off, while she's getting tattooed (I think it was her first), he's talking on his cell phone (oh, yeah, nuthin'... what are you up to??). Yeah, that's supportive. When Michelle got her tattoo, I was right there, talking her through it. She got hers done by Shannon at Lyle Tuttle's in SF (now owned by the fabulous Tanya Nix - killer old school stuff). Shannon was about 1/3 done with the lining and I could tell M was getting really uncomfortable, so I held her hand and said, "You're doing great; you're almost done." To which Shannon replied, "What?! We're not even close! (pause, then realization of the psychological ploy at work) Oh, yeah, we're almost done."

But I digress....

So, after tattooing we went to Cowboy Diner in Felton for dinner. If you ever find yourself in the Santa Cruz mountains, go to Felton and eat at Cowboy Diner. It is excellent!! Bring your appetite and prepare to leave portion control by the side of highway 9. After dinner, we walked down the road about a quarter mile to a mountain bar. We ordered up some whiskies and went outside. Yes, it was damn cold, but I had brought back some Montecristo torpedoes from Mexico and I thought it fitting that we celebrate the completion of the tattoo with some fine cigars. So, we're sitting out there and pretty soon the toothless tweakers and mountain skanks come out of the bar for their nicotine an drama break. They started a fire (in a fire pit, not just out there on the dirt) and huddled around it for warmth.

We ended up chatting up some of the locals including one very drunk guy who lit his cigarette by shoving it, along with his whole hand, into the fire pit. He could do this, he told us, because he grew up without electricity and could shower with one gallon of water which he heated over an open flame. Most people, he boasted, may be able to shower in as little as two gallons, but he only really needs one. It would have been more impressive without the slurring, swaying, and staggering, but his mastery of profanity was impressive. There was also a Cousin It looking hippie guy who offered us some of the resin he was smoking, a kind yet unneccessary gesture that we appreciated, yet refused for a variety of reasons. It was something out of a gritty Indie film and I half expected Tom Waits of Steve Buscemi to come barging through the door at any time. Instead, it was like watching the off, off, off, off Broadway production of Barfly in the age of Crystal Meth. Good times...

Tattoo

I'm headed to Santa Cruz tomorrow to see Benja at Pleasure Point Tattoo to have some more color work done on my latest tattoo, a modern take on a traditional Japanese water dragon. Last year, we worked on the tattoo once a month or so (it covers my entire right arm from below the elbow to the top of the shoulder) but stopped after the June session because I got so busy with work.

Now, almost seven months later, I finally have some time to head down there for the day. Ian's coming with me to provide moral support and keep the post tattoo pain relief (probably whiskey and cigars) flowing as appropriate. I haven't checked to see what bands are playing tomorrow night, but, since it's Santa Cruz, there's bound to be something happening. The photo (right) is a little old, but it's the only one I have.

The tattoo is actually a lot farther along than in this photo. Hopefully we'll be able to get the rest of the dragon colored in and spend some time on the claw and pearl on the elbow (one of my favorite spots).