“I don’t even like fake tattoos. So why do I have a real one?”

Sunday Herald Sun - Stellar - - Contents -

I hate my tat­too. As my wife said once: “It’s a very ’90s tat­too.” And she’s right. It’s a quasi Celtic arm­band I got in Chi­na­town in New York k in the 1990s.

I wasn’tn’t drunk; I was feel­ing very lost at the time. I was liv­ing in NYC, my ca­reer was in its in­fancy and I had no idea what I was do­ing or who I was. I was suf­fer­ingg from anx­i­ety and panic at­tacks. Lack­ing in con­fi­dence ce and con­trol. So this felt lib­er­at­ing. Ex­cit­ing. Look at me. I am edgy. That’s right­ght fel­las, have you seen this? ? What’s that, ladies? Un­der nder my T-shirt? Why that’s t’s my new tatt. I got ink done. I also shaved my head. So angsty.

Ex­cept t my hair grew back. k. The tat­too is still there. ere.

I have grap­pled with lov­ing it over the years. Of it be­ingg a sym­bol of where I was in my life at that time. me. Some­thing that did not de­fine me as who I am to­day, more some­thing me­thing that marked where I was; where I have come from.m.

Ex­ceptt now. Now I have ve had a bunch of ther­apy and I am mar­ried to a won­der­ful wo­man who com­mit­ted to me de­spite the vaguely Pamela-an­der­son-in- Barb-wire artis­tic state­ment on my right arm. I haveh a gor­geous fam­ily. Then it happ hap­pened. One day a few years back back, my el­dest son, Leo, asked mem the ques­tion: “What’s that, Dad?”Da What was I go­ing to say say? I’d ba­si­cally ig­nored it for years.ye Laughed it off whenwhe peo­ple said some­thing­some about it. Tried to be cool. Yet here he is is. The boy I adore. The one who looks tomto me for guid­ance in hishi life. The young boy who I will help shape­shap to be a man. A man who will make his choices and one day be old enough to get his own tat­too. So I said: “It isi some­thing stup stupid Dad did one time. L Long be­fore you wer were born.” This was th the fi­nal break-up be­tween me and my tat­too. I h had moved on and fel felt it no longer had any p place in my his­tory or fu­ture.f I was over it. For a brief m mo­ment I toyed with the idea of adding more to hide the em­bar­rass­ment. Like try­ing to get out of debt by spend­ing more money.

I get it. Hip­sters. Sleeves. Your kids’ names. Your favourite al­bum. I to­tally un­der­stand why this fab­u­lous form of inky self-ex­pres­sion ex­ists. But this one means noth­ing. It has no bear­ing in my life at all. I lit­er­ally spent two hours pick­ing it out of a cat­a­logue.

I am now the par­ent who, un­der no cir­cum­stances, wants my kids to think my tat­too is cool. Hell, I don’t even like the fake ones kids get in party bags.

I can get it re­moved. It would be su­per-painful, take a long time and my right arm would end up look­ing like An­gelina Jolie af­ter her big ink re­moval fol­low­ing her sec­ond mar­riage.

Or I can leave it. My mark of how un-cool I re­ally am. A les­son to my kids. Dad was an id­iot. He did not have a clear idea of who he was so he went ex­plor­ing. Now it’s there for­ever. I mean FOR­EVER. Stay away from Chi­na­town, kids.

David co-hosts To­day Ex­tra, 9am week­days, on the Nine Net­work.

“It’s a mark of how un-cool I re­ally am. A les­son to my kids. Dad was an id­iot”

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Australia

© PressReader. All rights reserved.