Shoes and tattoos

Life is an education. This week a friend of mine posted a message on Facebook declaring that while cleaning out her closet she found 110 pairs of shoes. 110. In practical terms, my friend could wear a different pair of shoes every day for the next three months and three weeks. But, of course, she won’t. That’s the mystery of it all.  
If you’re an excessive shoe shopper, go ahead and fess up. You hardly ever wear those yellow high heels you got on sale right before your cousin got married in Gulf Shores. And those suede zebra striped flats? They seemed like a great idea when you bought them on the side of the road in Alabama. But we all know you haven’t worn them since Halloween two years ago. Turquoise cowboy boots from Texas? Buried under the hot pink Converse tennis shoes.
One of my friends has 20 pairs of flip flops. I told her I wouldn’t notice if she wore the same pair of flip flops all summer. She gasped in horror. But then I told her that I owned two pairs of sandals, one pair of tennis shoes, one pair of black dress shoes and a brown pair of casual shoes. The amazing part? Even though I only own five pairs of shoes, most people consider me to be a fairly decent human being and a model citizen. Less is more, friend. Less is more. But don’t expect the man on the side of the road in Alabama to share that secret of life with you. He has a lot of suede zebra striped flats he needs to unload.
Let’s move on to the subject of tattoos. If you’ve gathered the young folk ’round the newspaper hoping I’ll let ’em have it with both barrels, I hate to disappoint you. I’m not planning on making any moral or immoral declarations regarding tattoos. I know tattoos are wildly popular with young people right now. And, the way I see it, if you want to pay money for someone to dig into your flesh and implant permanent ink into your skin, knock yourself out.  
I’ve known for years that I’m not the kind who should get a tattoo. But not for the reasons you might think. I don’t need to get a tattoo because I’m too indecisive. As I said to a young person recently, “You do know that this is permanent, right? As in permanent, forever, always, not gonna ever go away even when you don’t want it anymore, permanent.”
Friends, I’m simply not trustworthy enough for the serious long-term commitment required by a tattoo. There’s just nothing I could get inked into my skin today that I feel confident I would still want inked into my skin 40 years from now.
I feel sure there’s a middle-aged balding man out there somewhere who has the Partridge Family logo inked onto his right shoulder. Who could have known that they weren’t destined for permanent musical greatness? Tragic.
You have the freedom to live life as you choose. This is America. But use your freedom wisely. Be suspect of people who sell shoes out of their car and never get a Justin Bieber tattoo. My work here is done.
For more information about Lisa Smartt, visit her website, lisasmartt.com.

Published in The Messenger 7.11.12

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