Da plane, da plane, boss! Good old Herve Villechaize. Although he was well known for his role in Fantasy Island, he was also quite brilliant as Nick Nack in the Bond film The Man With the Golden Gun. Why is Herve relevant to me right now you ask? Because he is a midget, of course. I love me my midgets. I just want to hug them and toss them by their belt loops as far as I can.
But there is more to Herve than my demented fascination with dwarfism. He reminds me of something I acquired recently and I’m not talking about an endocrine disorder. No sir I am not.
No, I did not get a plane. Nor did I buy an island of fantasies, although that sounds pretty good. As long as it’s not the island that all mimes and clowns will be sent to when I take over the world. I will stay far far away from that island.
Still not sure what the hale I’m talking about? A nick nack? Did I buy a nick nack? Wrong. A white tuxedo? No, but that would be cool. I could use a white tuxedo for sure. I’d wear it to dive bars and crash catered dinner parties. I’d walk around with a martini glass, a raised eyebrow and snarky attitude. I’d find a big table of couples and say to the guys, “Do you mind if I dance with your dates?” I don’t need a wing-man when I’m wearing a white tuxedo.
Still struggling with my acquisition that is related to Herve? Shut up Facebook friends – you already know the scoop.
I was in San Francisco a few weeks ago. I was in the Haight-Ashbury area of town. I’ve been thinking about this for a couple years. No, not of becoming a beatnik. I finally got my tattoo. A few months ago in Chicago I had an artist take a stab at a drawing based on what I wanted, but he didn’t nail it, so I walked. I wandered in a shop in SF and felt a really good vibe. I randomly opened one of about ten artist portfolios. The first photo I turned to was of waves. I wanted waves. I looked at more and this artist was really good.
It was a Sunday afternoon and there weren’t many artists in the shop. But the one I liked happened to be there. Karma. I explained what I wanted, which was basically this:
My ruling planet is the moon. So is Drew’s. Will’s is Neptune. Which is water. I’ve always been infatuated with the moon. And all I do anymore is travel to water. The moon and water are two of nature’s most powerful forces. They represent many things to me. I’m on this journey of meaningful happiness. A big part of that is a balance in life and of course my children. So I wanted my moon and water to be circular and loosely representing that balance via the yin-yang. And of course the international sign for happiness is Forest Gump’s round smiling happy face. Round is good. Lastly, the first initials of my boys are hidden in the waves – upside down to someone looking at me, but facing me when I look down at my arm. My angels in the moon and sea of happiness.
My kids love it. They play I Spy and find other things in there like lizard claws and a basketball. I love it because it symbolizes exactly what I wanted.
I’m 44 years old and the funniest thing about all this is imagining my parents’ reaction. They aren’t fans of ink. I have a history of freaking them out. Like when I dropped out of business school in college to pursue a degree Sociology. My parents were horrified that I’d be a social worker on welfare. When out of the blue I told them I felt like moving away from Chicago and then did it (to Colorado) six months later, they thought I was going through a phase. When I quit my well paying job at an ad agency at age 29 to start my own shop, they questioned my sanity. They were freaked out when I told them I was divorcing. They didn’t see that coming.
They made it through all that. They actually have a ton of faith in me even if they tend to disagree with all my big decisions. They always come around.
But this tattoo. Uh oh. I was thinking I’d tell them something really shocking and then say, “Just kidding. But I did get this tattoo. Aren’t you glad I’m not really getting a sex change?”