We went to our soon-to-close Staples for what was probably the last time. Behind us in line at the register, a sixty-something man with a tattoo of Alfred E. Neuman on his arm. No caption, just the famous face.
“I like your tattoo,” I said. “Did you get it during the glory days of Mad?”
If I had thought for another few seconds before asking, I would have realized that the ink was far too bright and sharp to have dated from the glory days of Mad . But in that case I wouldn’t have heard his explanation:
“I got it when I turned fifty. I decided that I was taking things too seriously. It goes with me everywhere.”
Friday, September 30, 2016
A Neuman tattoo
By Michael Leddy at 9:46 AM
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comments: 8
"What, me worry?"
I have reached the age where that motto would probably serve me well.
I can identify. Or try to do so. (I come from a long line of worriers.) I just thought of adding the caption to the post, but then decided that it probably wouldn’t help without even more explanation. So in the words of Sir Paul, I will Let It Be.
Thou hast spoken "...words of wisdom."
Your turn.
Nah, I’m just a fool on a hill. Really, I live on a small hill.
Is your hill the one at the end of the long and winding road that the other guy wrote about? The one that was Sgt. Pepper's route when he was a beat cop?
Actually it’s near Blue Jay Way. Watch out for Rita — she tickets people for parking overtime.
(This is fun.)
Yes, it is fun. Getting late on this hard day's night, so for now, I'll say goodbye and good night. Won't be too long until we'll be saying, "Good grief, here comes the sun!"...you know? I'm so tired, I'm starting to feel like an old brown shoe.
I'll try to remember to tell you about Rocky. No, there really was a Rocky!
Yes, tell me. And tell me why. Don’t pass me by.
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