Thursday, January 07, 2010

3 Tattoos & 3 Tattoo Brothers

I have 3 tattoos, which I would wager ranks me as the tattoo king for Theology professors. Each tattoo has marked a significant stage in my life, and the experience has always been shared with a good friend. The shared tattoo experience has, in my mind at least, solidified the friendship much like my the ritual of becoming blood brothers. My tattoo brothers are Marc LeClerc, Scott Castleman, and most recently, my sister Chris Homan.

My most recent tattoo is a fleur-de-lis on my right calf. It's more than just a Saint's fan thing. I have so many emotions tied into this city after it flooded. I think of it as my red badge of courage, or you might say cowardice if you would have heard me complaining about the pain. Tattoos hurt. Especially the outline part.
My tattoo brother during this experience was my sister Chris, who got a Chicago Cubs tattoo on her ankle/calf. She dealt with the tattoo pain better than me. The tattoo artist was Seth Kirshman from Villain's in Omaha.

Many years ago, my best guess is 1989, I got an Elvis tattoo on my right shoulder. It was a pretty bad tattoo at first. People said it looked like Geraldo Rivera. After several years it was touched up by an artist at Villain's. The color behind the fire has faded, but it still looks OK. I'm a big fan of the cult of Elvis, much more than I am a fan of the person of Elvis. My tattoo brother here was Scott Castlman, who got a panther on his shoulder. Fun fact: Scott Castleman is my only tattoo brother who is also a blood brother, an honor I share with Scott, Pat Chase, and Matt McAllister. But here's Elvis:

My very first tattoo was a dragon that I got in Memphis. Marc LeClerc and I had designs we came up with for our tattoos. We drove to Graceland. The car broke down. It must have been 1985 or so. We left the designs in the car. We called tattoo artists and found one who would be willing to pick us up from Graceland. We found one. My artist was named "Mousy." She showed me a tattoo on her boob. I think I was 19 years old, and I was impressed. Then they drove us to the bus station in Memphis and we took the bus home. Here's the dragon, now some 20 years later:


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