Angelina Jolie has a new tat. Joining her others, including V MCMXL, which is the date of a famous Winston Churchill speech ("I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat"), her shoulder is stamped with map coordinates that correspond to the birthplaces of her six kids.
Some stuff you just can’t seem to remember. Sure you can write it down, but hard drives crash, files burn, even notebooks get lost. I think that’s why more of us are turning to tats, not just as body art, but as permanent records of vital information. An imaPad, if you will.
My left arm isn’t just an underachieving appendage anymore, it’s a shopping list. And this has changed my life in small but significant ways. Now I never run low on bird seed, double A batteries, and Mr. Clean Magic Eraser. If something spills, there’s a Bounty paper towel to wipe it up.
My right arm has always been my body’s workhorse, so it’s stamped with daily reminders: Drink water, Vacuum under the rug, Floss. The longitudinal and latitudinal coordinates for where I might have left the carkeys.
My stomach has two stamps; one cautionary: The other white meat. And one inspirational: Celery, it’s what’s for dinner!!!
My entire right leg is given over to spiritual messages. A police officer pulled me over last week; he thought I was texting. But I wasn’t. I was just reading my thigh. So yesterday wasn’t the first day of the rest of my life after all. It's today. But if “Today is tomorrow’s yesterday,” that means today is never the first day of the rest of our life, either. It’s tomorrow. Until tomorrow is today, in which case it's practically yesterday...
Half way through my explanation, he let me off with a warning.