When I was eighteen, I got my tongue pierced.
My friends and I, on the last day of senior week at the beach, decided we’d all get something pierced and I went with the tongue.
I decided on the tongue because it felt Rebellious and it was Something For The Ladies – if you know what I mean.
If you don’t, that’s fine too, because I have no idea either.
I had that stupid piece of metal in my mouth for about six years, mainly because I forgot about it being in there. Eventually I took it out because it was stupid and it didn’t make me a rebel like Che and it was Time To Grow Up.
How fucking dumb is it to get something pierced as a way to be rebellious?
I remember when I got it I was thinking, “I won’t conform to this society! I won’t do it!” And then I went into my room, wrote shitty poems and listened to The Toadies.
When I have a son and he decides that he wants to Rebel Against The Man, I’m not going to let him do something stupid like I did.
Son: [Approaching me in my Man Room] “Dad, I’ve been thinking, I’m gonna get my eyebrow pierced.”
Me: [Still watching the game] “Oh yeah? Why would you do something dumb like that?”
Son: [Getting the disapproval he wanted, and now excited] “Because I want to, okay? Just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean I don’t!”
Me: [Commercial is on, so I look up] “Look. If you want to be rebellious, do something truly different. Don’t do so many drugs that you forget what you ate for breakfast. Maybe even get a career that doesn’t make you want to punch yourself in the skull from nine to five everyday – that’s rebellious. Not getting a piece of metal stuck through your face like some idiot.”
Son: [Shocked and unsure what to say]
Me: [The game is back on] “Good talk dude. Let’s play some pool when the game’s over.”
World’s Number One Dad?