Taking after dear old grandpa...

A lot of people in my family have used an alteration in their appearance as a form of self-expression. For example, a cousin of mine apparently has problems remembering his name, so he has tattooed it on himself so that he can easily refer back to it. I have several cousins with tattoos which commemorate special events in their lives. My sister dyed her hair pink. One of my grandparents had a nose ring and ears gaged down to his shoulders - he was totally punk rock.

This is my great-great-great grandfather George Lowery (AKA Chief Rising Fawn AKA Agi'n'agi'li).

• Me at 15: "Hey mom, I want a nose ring."
• Mom: "No! You certainly may not young lady."
• Me at 15: "But my grandfather had a nose ring! I'm carrying on the family tradition! I'm taking after dear old Grandpa. If I wanted to rebel, I WOULDN'T get a nose ring. I would be clean-cut."
• Mom: "Well, you do have a point..."
• Me at 15: "I want to get my ears gaged too! I don't even know what gage it is when you have your ears down to your shoulders, but it looks cool.

I have wanted to get a tattoo for many years, but nothing has ever jumped out at me as especially meaningful. I filed it away in my mental file cabinet as something that I would get to eventually. Then the other day, when I was in one of my favorite stores on Bardstown Rd., I saw a Día de los Muertos diorama with skeletons playing musical instruments. The macabre humor of the happy skeletons and the absolute absurdity of life and death inherent in the piece somehow reminded me of the past year of my life and how this whole cancer thing has warped my perspective of the world. Aha! I thought. I need to get a Día de los Muertos skull tattoo over one of my surgical scars to commemorate my battle with bone cancer in my skull!

One of the designs I am considering

I have been a counselor at Church camp, I carry around a Dark Crystal lunch box, and I collect unicorn figurines. I am EXACTLY the kind of person that you would think would have a skull and cross bones tattoo, huh? I'm not getting it because I'm obsessed with death or to fit in with the bikers at Sturgis or to appease my friends who all got skull and cross bones tattoos. Not everyone will "get it," but it's something that is deeply meaningful to me.

Anyway, talking about my grandfather reminded me of one of my favorite Eddie Izzard specials, Dress to Kill. George Lowery was one of the negotiators for the treaty which resulted in the Trail of Tears for the Cherokee nation. For those who don't know their history, this was basically when a bunch of white men wanted North Carolina and decided to boot the Indians out. The Cherokee went on a thousand mile trek which resulted in the death of thousands, and eventually ended up in their new homeland of Oklahoma. According to Eddie Izzard, apparently my grandfather did not have a flag: