I just don’t like tattoos.
Understood. But I always think back to that tattoo my dad had. The one he got after spending time in the Army from 1939 to occupation in Germany in 1947-48.
He was proud he was transferred to the newly established Air Force, and he got that tattoo on his right forearm to show it. By the time he died in 1971, it was faded and blurry, but not to him. So when I see them, I always wonder what’s behind them.