Jamaican me crazy - Take III

 And now to the beach itself.  The stretch of beach that encompassed the three resorts was created for the resorts.  Each end had a rock-like barrier, obviously man made.  Beyond those barriers, it was unkempt, rough terrain.  There were rows and rows of lounge chairs and beds along the shore at our resort.  We did enjoy the lounge chairs in the shade a couple of times, but spent a majority of our time at the pool.  The wind coming off of the water made it very comfortable and there wasn't much noise so it was peaceful.  To the far left of this picture on the left, there are a row of huts and a lifeguard stand, that is the division between our resort area and the sister resorts.

Little nap in the shade

 The one drawback, and it was fairly minor, was the drifting odor from those that did come to smoke the local 'cigarettes'.  It was clear that the locals hanging out along the far end, on the rocks that are like a barrier, were local entrepreneurs.  It was also evident that those that chose the beds farthest to the left were friends of the peddlers.  No problem, mon, we'll just hang out on the right.  And seriously, it wasn't a huge problem, just something we didn't want to be a part of or close to.  (We really preferred being up by the pools and having our Racquel to wait on us.)

Outdoor Port Maria restaurant over my shoulder

We ate lunch at the Port Maria outdoor restaurant.  They had a huge buffet of all sorts of things, hot and cold, dessert, etc.  I had read reviews prior about people getting tired of the buffet.  That didn't happen for me.  They added things each day to make it a little different than the day before, and honestly, who eats like that every single day at lunch?  (Except this week and it showed by the end of our stay.)

If you look to the far right of the picture on the right, they were creating a VIP area for preferred guests.  Jay and I really don't get that though - the idea of this entire resort is that you're a VIP.  What more could you really ask for?  We assume there are some people who just like the idea of being singled out as special or more important than others.  The funny thing to us was - this private beach area was right next to the rock barrier where the peddlers hung out...not exactly what I would want to deal with if I was VIP, you know.

Pure relaxation

We both read books while relaxing and we tried just about every drink on the menu.  There were all sorts of interesting combinations and most of them were delicious.  (Many full of sugar!  Waistline not happy.)

A couple things of note:  You did not see drunk idiots causing a ruckus at all.  There was one man who got a little carried away one afternoon, but that was it.  Everyone was pretty well behaved.  (Minus about three hours watching a couple and two women fight - literally - over a lounge chair in the shade by the pool.  Utterly ridiculous to waste such beautiful time on that!) Also, there were either honeymooners (we assume) or people in their 50s-70s there, but not a lot of 40-ish folks.  We didn't know if it had more to do with kids or money.  Maybe a little of both.  The couples our age were probably next door...

Proof we got in the water!

Until the finale...

Jamaican Me Crazy - Take II

In the lobby after supper.

Because we had arrived a day late, we asked if we could extend our stay one night...sure, for $600.  We don't think it would've been an issue had it not been Christmas.  They say it is their busiest time of year, which surprised us a little, and boy, did they go all out for it.  They had the decorations just like we would and even had the Christmas music playing in the lobby area.  The day we arrived, we cracked up seeing all the blow-up decorations of Santa, Snowmen, etc., in the resort lawns. Towards the end of our week there, there was a bunch of hustle and bustle preparing for the guests that would be arriving the week of Christmas.  I've always thought it would be sad to not be at home for Christmas...I'm now having second thoughts...as long as my family was with me.

We didn't actually meet our day butler, but our night guy was all over it.  He had our supper reservations in order and even surprised us one night with a fancy bubble bath and bottle of champagne (they knew we were there celebrating our 20th anniversary).  We didn't know this, however, and were at one of the nightly shows so we took some pictures and appreciated the gesture...gave him a good tip later on too!

If you look closely, you'll see the white slippers.  We each had a set of slippers and a white plush robe for the week.  Jay absolutely loved these slippers.  It cracked me up.  As soon as we got in our room, he would slip his on.  I wish I had gotten a picture of that.

It took us a couple of nights, but we also figured out what it meant to have our beds turned down.  That was pretty nice as well.  Someone would come into your room in the evening and get all the decorative pillows and such off the bed.  We usually had rose petals and some design made out of a towel on the bed too.  It's the little things...

I could go on and on at how nice the resort was.  It was just like the pictures and a very relaxing atmosphere.  If you heard these phrases once, you heard them a hundred times, "There are no problems in Jamaica, only solutions."  "Yeah, mon, no problem."  "No worries."  They push a relaxing experience and you feel it.  We felt welcome and not rushed at all.  It was quite inviting.

One of the best parts of it all - their native language is English.  They have their own dialect, but where we were, it was all English - except for some of the foreign guests who didn't speak English.  That made it a little tricky sometimes for the Entertainment Staff.  We would hear them trying to communicate with French people and it was funny.

One evening when we went out for supper, there were random people in red vests walking around handing out surveys.  We took the survey, gave the resort high marks and turned it in, not having a clue what it was all about.  Later on before the show, Stella (our favorite) and Thunder (hilarious guy with dreadlocks and the clearest blue eyes ever) were nearby in almost a panic.  They stopped their conversation (in their dialect because they realized it was rude) and invited us to join their chit-chat.

Apparently, the red vests were there evaluating the resort and the Entertainment Staff.  You would've thought they were coming to execute these poor people.  Stella and Thunder were in total panic freak-out mode.  They were scared to death that they were going to get poor remarks and lose their jobs.  It was sad, frankly, because they did such an outstanding job and we hated to see them feel this way. The good news was their best show of the week, Boogie Nights, was on the agenda.  After seeing it, we knew there was NO way, they could have received negative markings.

Mr. Clean goes swimming.

A couple curious things - I received at least three comments on my hair.  I feel like my haircut is pretty common in these parts, but as I looked around, no one else (even the Americans) had haircuts like mine.  I thought that was wild!  Kudos to my hairdresser, Michaelle!

Mr. Clean gets Jamaican dreads.

The other thing that just cracked me up, a couple of the staff kept referring to Jay as "Mr. Clean."  Funny, that even down there, they knew who Mr. Clean was.

Looking towards the sea from the balcony off the lobby.

The balcony off the lobby.

All the food was delicious.  Jay is a seafood and jerk eater, I am not.  This was no problem, mon.  I ate steak, delicious steak, every single night.  I don't know what they do to their cattle down there, but it was heavenly.  We ate some sort of beef at the Italian restaurant and it was to die for.  Had we eaten there earlier in the week, we probably would've asked to go back.  There was a nightly buffet at the Cornwall, the Port Maria outdoor restaurant became the Jamaican restaurant at night, a Surf and Turf, Japanese and Italian restaurant.  We think there was another one, but we didn't go there.

Oh, this is a hoot - the Japanese Restaurant with the hibachi grills - the chefs were Jamaican! Funny stuff.  It was still delicious.

Jerk chicken & pork on the beach

Jay thoroughly enjoyed the jerk pork, jerk chicken, etc.  I tried it a couple times, but it was just way too spicy for me.  When food burns my mouth and lips because of seasoning and not temperature, I'm out. There was plenty of other stuff for me to eat.   One day they did a cooking show out on the beach and then everyone was welcome to eat lunch there.  Jay dove right in.  I tried it, but (see earlier comment) - off to the Port Maria outdoor buffet I went.

Racquel & I

Our favorite waitress in the pool/beach area was Racquel.  She was such a sweetheart, skinny as a rail and walked with a slight limp.  Jay picked up on it right away.  She was trying hard to hide it, but if you watched close enough, you could see it.  She was a doll.  Jay figures she was probably in pain most of the time though she didn't let on.  We tipped her well, and she found us every single day with a smile.  I'll take that.  She is looking forward to our next visit and so am I!

Jay and I both agree that we must bring our kids to some type of resort like this, here or there.  They would love it and we would love to have them experience it...though we were happy being on our own this time around.  We definitely were spoiled though - it might be hard to take our travel experience down a few notches.  In the weeks preceding our trip, our kids moaned and groaned about us leaving them behind.  I told Madolyn, "When you have been married 20 years, you can go to Jamaica."  Ha, in this day and age, we've earned this!

To be continued...

Jamaican Me Crazy - Take I

I had warned Jay in 2014 that we had better do something spectacular for our 20th wedding anniversary in 2015.  Jay had a big turnaround at work from June-October and was unable to take off during that time.  We knew that in advance and last February booked a trip to Jamaica for a week in December.  We figured the weather here would be cruddy - what better time to be on a beach?

As luck would have it, it was in the mid 60's the Saturday we left.  I talked Jay into sticking around for the Christmas Light Parade in town and we left (before the fireworks, dang it) from there and went to Indy to spend the night and do the sleep, park and fly deal at a hotel there.  Our hotel room there was awesome - nice surprise since I had slim pickings when making the reservation.  We had a wakeup call scheduled for 3:30 a.m., our time, so that we could be at the airport three hours in advance of our flight - travel agent's orders.

I hopped out of bed at 3:30 a.m., showered, got Jay up and off we went.  The weather was still fairly mild and it was nice not to have to bundle up to go to the airport.  We left our coats in the car for the week.  Yee-Haw.

We checked our bags, coasted through a very unfriendly customs process and settled in at our gate...alone.  Seems no one else takes the 3-hour-prior-to-flight rule as seriously as we did.  I began knitting, Jay walked around, we were pumped.  Pretty soon others started to mosey in and sit down.  As we were neared our boarding time, we noticed the flight board showed a change to our flight to Charlotte, NC.  DELAYED.  Of course, it was.  No worries.  It happens.

Then the announcement comes - "Due to fog in Charlotte, they are not accepting any flights into the airport.  We'll call your name if this effects your connecting flight."  And one-by-one they went in alphabetical order calling names...

They got down to the end of the alphabet and quit calling names.  Next announcement - "If your final destination is Jamaica, please come to the counter."  That would be us and one other couple...with their ukuleles in tow.

I listen in to what the gal is telling the ukulele fellow and it does not sound hopeful.  They move on and we bump up in line to hear the same information.  I'm not a crier, but at this point, I want to cry so bad.  At one point I tell the agent, "You know, I kept telling Jay I cannot believe we're actually doing this...and we aren't." I knew it wasn't her fault, and I wasn't trying to make her feel bad, but it was an awful letdown to an adrenaline-packed morning.

And fog for crying out loud...In December, I could foresee snow, ice, etc...but FOG?!

After making a plan and revamping it a couple times, we decided this:  We'd avoid Charlotte because they could have fog again the next morning, and we had never been to Miami...so Miami later that night it was.  Jay got on the phone and made a hotel reservation while I called the travel insurance people.  The silver lining - our travel insurance would cover everything extra.  (For once, insurance does what it's supposed to.)

We had to then get new tickets printed and go through the whole process over, but at least we had a plan and at least we were departing the Midwest.  Oh, the other perk - they booked us First Class to Miami (that was nice).

Our flight wasn't until the evening and it was mid-morning so we decided to call the hotel and get a ride back to the car.  We went and found a Mexican restaurant for lunch, went back to the hotel, parked and relaxed in the car.  We had a few hours to kill and Jay was not in the mood to shop (bummer).  Jay slept while I watched Netflix on the iPad and did some knitting.

As a sidenote - we were in line at Customs with Michael Waltrip, the NASCAR driver.  I was so excited. Jay begged me not to bother him in Customs and I didn't.  We then ended up at the same little bar watching football and I didn't have the nerve to bother him there because I was afraid he would think I was stalking him. I know he saw me staring at him in line earlier. Later on, we thought we spotted him sitting near a gate facing the window.  I grabbed a pen and paper and headed over to him to get an autograph.  I got ready to tap his shoulder, he turned his head and it wasn't him!  Thankfully, he didn't notice I was about to touch him!  I should have just asked him at the little bar.  After he left the bar, Jay leaned over to the lady who had been sitting next to him and asked her if she knew who he was.  Nope, not at all.  Though after he told her, she knew who he was.  Funny.

We made it to Miami that evening and, boy, is that a different world.  Honestly, the Miami airport felt more foreign to me than the Jamaican airport.  It was kind of neat though, when you exited the plane, you were outside and walked along a covered walkway into the airport building.  I guess with their weather, you don't need to be indoors.  We were definitely the minority and were thankful that although almost everything was in Spanish, they did still display signs in English as well.

We had a nice stay at the hotel in Miami. Our flight to Jamaica wasn't until around noon, so after a hot breakfast, I made Jay take a walk with me around the hotel a few blocks...just so we could say we had been to Miami!  He thought it was silly, I thought...why not?

All smiles now!

Our flight to Jamaica was uneventful.  We weren't in First Class, but we were in the Exit aisle which is almost as good as far as legroom.  Our flight was short and in no time, we had landed at our destination.

The Jamaican airport was definitely a treat.  Again, we exited the plane and walked outside down a ramp into this customs area.  As soon as we got within earshot of the building, we could hear fire alarms blaring.  Hmm.  We were ushered down this winding ramp into a very full waiting area with the zigzag maze line.  It looked like it would be a very long time in line.  Fire alarms still blaring.  No custom agents at any of the kiosks.  Tons of travelers crammed in area.  To our surprise, they opened up the closed-off area with the zigzag lines and directed us into that waiting area...which took us right to the front.  This is good because we are both dying to use the restroom!  Alarms still sounding.

I tell Jay that I bet the custom agents have been directed to a safe area because of the alarms and nothing is going to happen until the alarms are silenced.   I was right.  About 30 seconds after they stopped, the agents appeared ready to work. (We never did hear why the alarms were sounding.) Once they got going, it was very quick...but they wouldn't let us use the nice big bathroom in the waiting area - we had to go on through to the baggage claim and use the one-hole.  Finding our bags took forever, we took turns going to the one-hole and were on our way.  We immediately found our travel company and were put on a huge bus with many other excited tourists.

We had made it!  A day late, but we didn't care at this point. We were in Jamaica and the sun was shining.  Our trip to the resort was uneventful for the most part.  The only thing that caused me concern was when it was just Jay and I left on the once-full bus.  I asked the guy if that was a good thing or a bad thing, "Oh, no, it's a good thing.  The Iberostar Grand is very nice!"  Hmm, apparently we had made a good decision!

The next thing out of his mouth was: "Did you come to smoke weed?"  Uh-oh.

Our resort was inside a compound so-to-speak along with two sister resorts.  All three resorts shared a stretch of beach.  We could go to all three resorts, but only the guests of the Iberostar could be there.  It was an adults-only resort; the other two were family friendly.  We did visit the other resorts, which were also very nice, but decided this:  We didn't bring our kids and certainly didn't want to be around other people's kids...or their annoying parents.  We had made the right choice.

The Iberostar had five restaurants, one of which was a grand buffet, the Cornwall.  We had breakfast every morning at the Cornwall and I fell in love the first day with the banana waffles and ate them every single morning.  They were delicious.  You were encouraged to have reservations for supper so we had our butler (yes, we had a day butler and a night butler) make reservations for the week at each of the restaurants.

My knitting spot.

My day would begin on the balcony knitting while watching Netflix, and letting Jay sleep in.  (I'm an early riser no matter what.)  Awesome perk with Netflix is that in Jamaica you have a different selection of shows, one of which was Modern Family.  I had a great time watching that hilarious show the whole week!

After breakfast at the Cornwall, we would change into our swimsuits, grab our books and sunglasses and head to the pool area.  There were lots and lots of lounge chairs, beds and cabanas to choose from.  Some were in the shade, some were not, some were shaded various parts of the day.  We'd pick a sunny spot and settle in for the day.  Three mornings I attended the yoga or stretching class located next to the pool area.  It was very relaxing, for the most part, and I felt like I was doing something productive - to counteract all the banana waffles and bacon I was eating!

What our day at the pool looked like.

I conned Jay into going with me one morning, but that was it.  And honestly, after the yoga class I went to - obviously an advanced yoga class - I didn't go back.  Three out of six mornings isn't horrible, right?  I was clearly the youngest at every class, and not necessarily the most flexible.  Pitiful...

View from balcony - pool area

There were always activities going on throughout the day around the pool and beach area.  I played beach volleyball one day and have to say I think I surprised them with my serving ability (I surprised myself as well).

The Entertainment Staff was a very personable group of about five or six young Jamaican's.  They were so friendly and were constantly interacting and striking up conversation with you or anyone around.  I'm sure that's what they're told to do, but it was nice.  One day we were lounging on this bed by the pool and I thought something was in my hair.  I kept grabbing at it, only to find nothing.  I would continue reading and feel that strange whatever in my hair.  Turns out it was Stella from the Entertainment Staff.  She was picking on me...and asking us to join in on a game of beer pong...only it wasn't with beer.  That's how they would announce it too - "Beer Pong. Anyone want to play Beer Pong without the beer?"  We played and didn't win, but it was fun anyway.

The kinds of things the Entertainment Staff would do included stretching, yoga, water aerobics, volleyball, Zumba, dance class, volleyball, bocce ball, soccer, cooking class, and other activities throughout the day.  In the evening, they were part of the nightly shows.  They would dress in their costumes and mingle in the bar/lounge area before the 8:45 shows and some would try to get you to go to the Discoteque after the nightly show.  Jay and I went once...and that was it.  We are old, I guess!

We attended all the nightly shows except for one...that night we were so tired, we started watching the Discovery channel after supper and just crashed!  Exciting night life.  We would eat supper around 6 and then have to wait around until 8:45 for the shows...It was hard to stay pumped up and awake that long.  Two evenings we came back and took naps in between!  We decided next time, we should have our supper reservations a little later than 6:00 or 6:30.

Alex, middle, was an awesome dancer.  Look at those costumes!

The nightly shows were held in a theater just off the lobby.  They were great.  Our favorite was Boogie Nights.  It was a show full of 70s themed music and dancing.  We loved it.  Their costumes were neat too.  They changed costumes several times throughout the show.  One night we went to a sister resort to watch the Wizard, a magician.  He had walked around the pool area in the afternoon and hooked me.  We enjoyed his show...but not being around all the little kids!  Ahh, we kept saying, we love our own kids, but really don't want to be around someone else's.  Needless to say, we didn't last the entire show.

Our resort was all-inclusive so the entertainment, food, drinks, etc. was free so-to-speak.  We did a lot of tipping, but didn't really mind it.  We had great service.  I am guessing the shows we watched would've been in the neighborhood of $35+ per person had we paid.  It was quality entertainment without "stars."

 Stay tuned for part II...

Blast from the Past

I know it's been a very long time.  Don't give up on me, I've just been lazy.

Here is a cute blast from the past my sister-in-law sent me.  It was an old e-mail I had sent her in 2007.  Jay and I have laughed and reminisced reading this.  We can just hear our little bud saying this, using his hands and all animated...like his grandpa, the Quackdaddy.

FYI - Lyla, is our niece.  She and Lane are only ten days apart and have always been pretty close.  In 2007, Lane and Lyla would've been three-and-a-half and Madolyn would have been seven.

I had a bunch of pictures out last night and Lane was
going through them.   He pulled out a picture of he
and Lyla and he said, "She's so pretty."  I said "Is
that your girlfriend?"  "Yeah, she's pretty."    

Last week or so he was telling Madolyn that Lyla was
his girlfriend.  She was arguing with him saying she
could not be.  He said he would marry her.  He got
frustrated and with that shake and tilt of his head, he
says, "I gonna marry her on my tractor."  Madolyn says,
"You can't marry her on a tractor, you have to be in a
church.  He says "I'll drive my tractor to the church
and marry Lyla."  

I have read this a couple times.  As I said before, I can just hear and see him saying these things.  A while back, Lane found the video camera and we watched a bunch of home videos.  Sadly, we don't really take them anymore because we have the phones and iPad, etc.  Watching those videos makes you realize how fast time does pass...and how cute your ornery kids once were.

Wishing you and yours a very Merry Christmas.  Enjoy those little ones and even the older, sometimes grumpy ones :)

#5, RIP Sweet Abby

A few weeks ago Abby acted really weird for about 36 hours.  We were worried at first, but she perked up and we thought she must have gotten into something bad for her tummy and was fine.  Last weekend, she started acting funny again and she didn't recuperate like before.

We have, at times, been annoyed with Abby because of her extreme loyalty, myself especially.  The common dog phrase, "Faithful Companion," best describes Abby.  She was at my side if I was outside, always.

Every single time I headed out on a big walk, she was jumping at my feet ready to go, and then would proceed to literally walk on my feet, at times even causing me to trip or stumble. Quite frankly, with my clumsiness and her attached-to-my-ankle notion, I am surprised I have never fallen and hurt myself.

Just this past year or so, Jay noticed something kind of neat about #5.  Abby would stay between me and whatever might try to come near me on a walk.  If another dog would start to come my way, she would move in.  If Jay and I tried to switch places to trick her, she would move too.  She was my fearless protector...annoying as it would sometimes be.

This past year, she got to where she would not get up as quickly as she used to, she had sort of a glaze to her eyes and we wondered if she could even see or hear.  I got to calling her granny because she hobbled around like an old lady, somewhat deaf and blind.  She has been good for Hank the Tank II though because she stopped running around and kind of keeps Hank home, for the most part.  (Hank isn't too brave on his own.)

We have no idea what her ailment is, but as a family, we all agreed there was no reason to prolong her suffering.  I am thankful that she didn't wander off and die as some dogs like to do...although that might have been easier on Jay, who had the daunting task of taking her to the vet this morning.

Farewell, my faithful companion - the longest living dog we have ever had - you certainly won't be alone in Wilhoit dog heaven.

Wish I had known that guy...

Last week my dad's first cousin's husband had a massive stroke and died.  His name was Gary and he was a character.  I attended his funeral on Sunday and the whole time I sat there thinking, gosh, I missed out, I wish I had know that guy.

I knew Gary, as much as I could know someone I see once or twice a year.  Most of my memories of him are from long ago.  But every single memory I have of him is a good one.

Here is what I did know about Gary.  He was super funny, he was successful, he was family and he was a die-hard Illini fan.  Any time I was ever around Gary, he was laughing and carrying on and you could not help but get sucked in.  Gary was a successful insurance agent and owned his own agency. Gary was family...albeit a little distant to me, he always knew who I was and took the time to speak to me and act interested in me and my life.  You could not know Gary and not know that he was a completely obsessed and very dedicated Illini fan.  I remember their old van...because it was painted in Illini colors and something you just didn't forget.

When we were kids, he let us fair rats (cousins) run a lemonade stand outside the secretary's office. Looking back, it was probably to keep us out of the secretary office, but it was so much fun...and it did keep us occupied for a while.

So what do I mean when I say I wish I known him?  When I heard he had died, I immediately thought of his daughter, LeeAnn, who had passed away in a car accident in 2004 and I hoped they were having the biggest reunion ever at the gates of Heaven.  And then I wondered, was Gary a Christian? I had no idea.  It bothered me, until I read his obituary and learned he was a very active member in his local church.  Praise the Lord.

I then read some tributes and newspaper articles that had been written about his passing and the life he had led, and boy, did he do life BIG.  He was very, very active in not only his church but his community, his county, his country and his family.  He served in Vietnam, was on the county board of his large county and active in various community committees and clubs.  He was a super FUN guy who didn't know a stranger.  His daughter, Amy, talked a lot about him being the high school Sunday School teacher at their church and how important that was to him.  She also said that no matter how late Saturday night's tailgate at the Illini game went, they were at church on Sunday morning.

I was so enamored by all these wonderful things that I never knew about this guy that I really liked but didn't really know.

Just a few weeks ago I saw him at a cousin's wedding.  I was getting ready to leave and he called me over to his table...with that great big grin that he always wore.  We exchanged the usual pleasantries and then he told everyone at the table with him about what I had written and read at my grandma's funeral, how much he loved it, etc.  A few weeks after my grandma's funeral, he either Facebooked or emailed me and wanted to know if I had a copy of what I had read at the funeral.  I had recorded it ahead of time, but could not figure out how to send the recording so I emailed him the written version of it.  I'm not sure why, but he really got a kick out of that reading.  He told me the day of her funeral and again two years later.  He remembered that little thing about me.

I am sad for Gary's wife, daughter, and grandsons because I know they will miss him dearly.  From the way it sounds, his death is truly everyone's loss.  I missed out myself.

I sure wish I had known that guy better...

I change my mind...a lot

I'm not going to sugarcoat this - I do not care for tattoos.  Period.  I do not like them, Sam I am.  Plain and simple.  I'm not mad at people for getting them, but honestly, I always cringe when I see a young person who has just taken the plunge and gotten one.  And here is why...

I change my mind...a lot.

Thinking back to my teen years, I was obsessed with a couple different things.  First and foremost, the Beatles. I loved the Fab Four dearly.  My room reflected it.  I had Beatles memorabilia all over my bedroom.  To this day, I still have my Beatles Beach towel. (I have finally let it be used for its intended purpose, [gulp] and it now has a hole in it.)  I had an alarm clock, pictures, books, etc.  I loved the Beatles and I loved the Peace sign.

Before the Beatles craze hit me, I loved the comic strip The Far Side.  Loved it.  I had one of those daily calendars and every single day, I would rip off a new comic and tape it to my wall.  One year = 365 comics.  (Man, my parents must have loved me.)  I also had all kinds of Gary Larson books.

And somewhere in the middle of the Beatles and the Far Side infatuation, I fell in love with Trolls.  You know what I'm talking about?  The little plastic naked men with bright neon hair that stuck out every which way. They came in all different sizes and outfits.  I had gobs of them.  Trolls were everywhere.

Stretching even farther back before the Beatles, the Far Side and the Trolls obsessions, I loved teddy bears.  There were 101 teddy bears stenciled all over my walls, in country blue...with rose curtains.  I had a couple shelves full of my collection of teddy bears.  I treasured my bears.

So when I was at my prime tattoo age, I can imagine that if I had decided to get a tattoo, I might have gotten a peace sign and/or some sort of reference to the Beatles.  "All you need is love" or "Let it be" come to mind.  I can't imagine that I would've gotten Ringo Star's face tattooed onto my arm, but you never know.  I really loved the Fab Four.

I still like Beatles music.  If I came across the Far Side comic strip, I am positive, I would crack up laughing and immediately recall why I loved them so much.  Trolls make me laugh...just because I was so obsessed with them and they're so freaky.  (I'm thanking the Lord right now I do not have a troll tattooed on my body.)  Teddy Bears...are cute and cuddly and it's not that I don't like them anymore, but I'm not sure I would feel too mature with a giant teddy bear on the calf of my leg.

A Christian comedian I went to see made this comment about tattoos.  His analogy cracked me up (in my words)...That bass (fish) you had tattooed on your belly will someday transform into a great white whale.

Seriously, yes.  Our bodies change.

Our likes and interests change.

The most poignant factor in my decision never to get a tattoo was Jay's Grandpa Truman...he begged both of us to never get a tattoo and showed us why.  It wasn't quite the bass-to-whale transformation but it left an impression, let me tell you.

And to be frank, I'm not a fan of pain or needles.

I know there are all sorts of Christians that have crosses and scripture and other signs of their faith tattooed all over their bodies.  I'm not sure if that is used as justification or what.  To me, it doesn't matter.  I may offend people for this, but there are lots of people who wear crosses in some or fashion and do not believe in Jesus Christ.  You having a cross or fish tattoo doesn't necessarily convince me you're a believer.  Just like wearing a Christian t-shirt doesn't necessarily confirm my Christianity.

My dislike of tattoos doesn't have anything to do with whether you're a good person or a crazed lunatic.  I'm not mad at you if you have a tattoo or twenty.  I'm just curious about what young people will think in 10 or 15 years about their choice of body art.

My point is this:  I would be mortified - and probably spending lots of money right now to remove it - if I had a tattoo of Ringo Star on my arm.

Before getting that tat, go back ten, fifteen or twenty years and think about something you just loved and now don't really give much thought. (It might even be a person!)  Now imagine a picture of that 'thing' permanently on your body...