Grugger’s Way

Why Didn’t I Ever Pierce My Ears? 

If this seems like a strange question to you, then you must be of a later generation than I am.

I can tell you that when I grew up in the 1950’s and 1960’s, women rarely pierced their ears, and those who did were often looked at as somewhat “suspect” in the morals department.  Hookers and skidrow skanks pierced their ears; once in a while a “B” movie actress, maybe.  But classy women did not “pierce” ears.

I never saw a man with a pierced ear until 1981. I looked askance at him and figured he was probably a “cross-dresser” too…or even worse.

I don’t even know when ear-piercing became mainstream for women.  So I have no idea when it became acceptable and “not gay” for men.  The history of “piercing” in general is not unlike the history of “tattoos” in the manner that society has now accepted them.   Whereas, in yesterday’s blog I mentioned that tattoos were long-considered as “rebel art” and “sleazy perversions,” I think piercing in general has a similar lineage.  Ear-rings were often worn by pirates…who were, after all, “sailors” and certainly they had tattoos.  

So, ear-piercing aside, just when did “body” piercing become popular?  I have no idea.  I just know that even “respectable” women, as well as men, now pierce just about every body part you can see and a few parts that are not normally seen in public.    I have long since quit saying “disgusting” and just keep my mouth shut.  Particularly since one never knows of what “secret” little piercings the person you are talking to may be hiding under those clothes.  Ugh.

Yesterday:  Why Didn’t I Ever Get a Tattoo?
Tomorrow:  Why Didn’t I Go HOG Wild?

Why Didn’t I Ever Get a Tattoo?

I spent 24 years on active duty with the U.S. Navy.  Have you ever seen a sailor WITHOUT a tattoo?  Even before tattoos were “all the rage” for rock stars, athletes, motorcyclists, and young girls, the NAVY sailor was the primary wearer of the ink.  I will allow that many U.S. Marines proudly imprinted themselves too, so there has always been a certain “bond” between the Navy and the Marines in the ink department. 

The three most popular Navy tattoos that I recall from my teenage days were the ANCHOR, the ROSE, and the word “MOM.”  The HEART tattoo, especially with a banner that says “Mom” was popular, as were the DRAGON and a ship under full sail.  The Dragon was iconic for the sailor as it represented the Far East, and crossing the international dateline into the “Realm of the Golden Dragon.” 

When I was 17, and participating in a two-week Naval Reserve training cruise, I worked for a Boatswain’s Mate 3rd Class named “Smitty” who had a tattoo of crossed anchors on his hand, between his thumb and forefinger, on the “web” area.  Oh God!  It looked like it would be painful.  Other painful-looking locations where I noticed tattoos that summer were on the top of the guy’s foot and on the pecker.  Yes, it seems there are no limits.  The tattoo of a snake often ended at the pecker.  I saw one guy who had ship propellers tattood on his buttocks.  One on the left, one on the right.  He enjoyed making them ”move” and would display this ”talent” in the group shower stalls.  Oh…the old days.

Did I want to associate myself with these images?  Were these guys to be my Navy ”role models”?  I thought not.  Plus, at 17, if I’d come home with a tattoo my Father would have clobbered me.  Really.  He thought tattoos were for thugs.  Not for his son.  Tattoos (in the 1960’s) were considered “rebel art” and a “sleazy perversion.”  So I deferred the tattoo during that two-week summer training cruise.  Two years later, out of high school and now at my first “permanent” duty station, I was room-mates with a guy who had 12 years in the Navy.  He was the same rank as I was.  He had tattoos all over his body.  He had been in trouble numerous times and had even been court-martialed.  Was he to be my Navy “role model”?  I thought not.  I also noticed that his old tattoos were mostly turning blue or blue-green and fading and stretching out and just looked like crap.     

So the tattoo thing was kind of a turn-off for me.  I saw that once a guy started down that tattoo’d road, he would continue to get more and more ink…like it was addicting.  Well, I had enough “addicting” personality traits that I didn’t need any more, and so I carefully avoided at least one addiction while actively participating in the other additions.

After I reached a certain age I felt “above” getting a tattoo and was proud to show that I was free of those ugly things.  My wife thinks I never got one because I was “chicken.”  I told her that wasn’t true.  But she knows I don’t like pain, so what can I say?  Maybe that was my secret reason all along and all the stuff I wrote above was just rationalizing.  What a head case.

Yesterday:  Why Didn’t I Ever Jump out of an Airplane?
Tomorrow:  Why Didn’t I Ever Pierce My Ears?

Why Didn’t I Ever Jump out of an Airplane?

Yesterday I was heartbroken because I couldn’t qualify to be an astronaut due to vision requirements.  I was only 13 when I had those dreams destroyed. 

So, one would think that if I was so “hot” on flying and space travel, that I would be equally “hot” for skydiving or parachuting, right?  I know that making qualifying jumps is a requirement for being a military pilot; one has to be able to survive an “incident” and be ready to eject.  I once dreamed I would be catapulting off the flight deck of an aircraft carrier, so why wasn’t I all hot to jump out of an airplane?

Opportunity comes and if you don’t grab it, you may never have another chance.  I recall when I was offered the opportunity to learn to parachute, and free-fall skydive.  A friend of mine was taking lessons and had joined the local military “club.”  He offered to take me along and get me into “jumping.”  I was tempted, but I chickened out at the idea.  I was afraid I would “freeze up” at the last second and embarrass myself in front of my friend.  That’s it.  Plain and simple.  I could say that I had family responsibilities, but now that sounds like I am “fudging” on my reasons.  I was chicken. 

I no longer have the “stomach” for taking chances.  I no longer enjoy “risk.”  Do I regret that I missed out on this “thrilling” experience?  Sure, over the years I have wondered what it would have felt like to drop through the air at 100 plus miles per hour.  But over the years I have felt regrets about many things I did and didn’t do.  I am still chicken about the idea of jumping out of a plane.  Had an opportunity two years ago to make a “tandem” jump with an instructor.  Didn’t do it.

Yesterday:  Why Didn’t I Become an Astronaut?
Tomorrow:  Why Didn’t I Ever Get a Tattoo?

Why Didn’t I Become an Astronaut?   I certainly had the interest; I was a fan of the space program in the extreme!  When I was in 7th grade I could name the original seven astronauts, knew the spacecraft designations, all the jargon, and all the future schedules for Mercury, Gemini and Apollo flights.

I will tell you now, that I even stayed home from school on days that space launches were scheduled.  Back in those days there were so many mission “scrubs” and delays, that I sometimes missed two or three days just WAITING for the launch.  I didn’t care about much else, SPACE seemed to  be the ULTIMATE!  The astronauts were almost iconic.

What Heroes!  Their careers as fighter pilots and test pilots were the stuff of my daily dreaming.  I wanted to be like them!  I wanted to fly in space, and to the moon, and MARS!  

Then…in a moment….it was all gone.

In 7th grade….I needed glasses!  What!  NO!  That’s disqualifying!!  I was alsolutely DEVASTATED!

There were no exceptions; I knew the physical requirements.  I knew the requirements for the military academies and for the pilot training programs, and therefore the NASA requirements too.  So…not only was the astronaut corps and space flight out of the picture, I could not even qualify for flight training.  My vision was too badly impaired to even qualify for the military academies.  Only West Point allowed less than 20/20 vision, and they limited vision impairment to 20/40, correctable to 20/20, of course.  I was 20/100 in one eye and 20/200 in the other!   I couldn’t even see the chalk board from the back of the classroom, which is where I sat, because I did not want to be called upon, because I couldn’t see what the teacher had written on the board. 

I often wonder how my life would have been different had I discovered the vision impairment a couple of years earlier, before I was a teenager with “attitude.”  I can tell you that my “attitude” got even worse after my BIG ASTRONAUT career plans were destroyed.  

By the way, vision requirements are much different today, and were I a youngster today, I would still be able to live my dreams.

Tomorrow:  Why Didn’t I ever jump out of an airplane?
Yesterday:  Why Didn’t I Marry my First Love?