The glory of Rome in a tattoo! (SPQR) 11.30.01

Today's column is dedicated to Courtney Brummer, a good friend of ours who isn't feeling very good right now.
Courtney is one of the best police beat reporters I have ever known in the entire length of my professional journalism career. Please send her your positive energy, prayers or cash (in care of Greg Jerrett at The Nonpareil) depending on your religious beliefs.
You are the Esther Rolls to our "Good Times." We miss you, C.
Now, get better soon or the fish gets it. I'm serious. Johnson said he will give new meaning to the term "battered fish." And if you are not better and back at your desk Monday, the fish is going swimming in the Missouri and I am NOT driving him there, capisce?
And now, without further ado, here is "Courtney's Column" or "My sweet tattoo."
So there I was sitting in Body Images Tattoo Parlor and Piercing Emporium trying to decide whether I wanted to "get some ink done" or have a small metal rod shoved through my foreskin.
Decisions, decisions.
Long story short (no pun intended), my foreskin was stolen from me years ago by an unscrupulous barbarian of a doctor who convinced my mother circumcision was somehow more hygienic than au natural. This is in spite of the fact that Europeans are never circumcised unless they are also Jews and you don't hear about any great plagues being spread by unclean units. Down with circumcision!
I decided to go with the ink, but it had to have meaning.
No flaming skulls with swords sticking out of them for me. No sir. No flowers, butterflies or broken hearts either. I decided the only tattoo for me was four letters in perfect Roman or Trajan letters: "SPQR."
"SPQR" stands for Senatus Populusque Romanum or Senate and People of Rome. The Romans were as big on acronyms as we are with our BKs, KFCs, VCRs, DVDs, MRIs, EKGs and NASAs.
In addition to the fact that Latin is one of the hardest rocking dead languages you ever will see (thanks Scheib!), "SPQR" and the seal of the Roman Republic was prominently featured on my favorite T-shirt from high school.
That's right, I was in Latin Club. You want to make something of it?
But I swore I would never get something permanently written on my skin unless I could justify it to my mother who worked SO HARD to make all this skin.
And here is my justification or at least my rationalization.
Of all the civilizations that have come and gone on this crazy planet we call Earth, the Romans are arguably one of the greatest.
They were not the most original people; they modeled themselves after the Greeks. They certainly were not the kindest of empires; they gave us crucifixion and gladiatorial combat.
But they were great engineers, cooks, doctors, soldiers and scholars. They conquered most of the known world in their time. They owned ALL the beach front property around the Mediterranean and, most importantly, they brought peace to a chaotic world and got rich doing it.
Without the Romans, western civilization as we know it would not exist today. Of course they enslaved millions, killed millions more and eventually defined corruption, cruelty and insanity.
At its height, the Roman Republic before the Caesars was the pinnacle of enlightened democratic leadership and is the model we follow to this day.
"SPQR" reminds me that sometimes the greatest of human accomplishments go hand-in-hand with the greatest atrocities.
It reminds me of the duality of man. That we are equally capable of good and evil. That each of us is as capable of greatness as infamy.
And most importantly, this tattoo reminds me that ALL of this, our lives, our place in history, fame, luck, wealth, cruelty, art, pain ... everything, no matter how long it lasts, is temporary. And that is OK, too.
Of course, my next tattoo will probably be Dilbert peeing on Osama bin Laden's head.
And that is what I told Chuck at the tattoo parlor as he stabbed into my arm repeatedly with the razor sharp needle that injected me with carbon-rich black ink.
When he was done, I was impressed with the skill he used to render my new body art in perfect Trajan letters.
"Now, don't go swimming for at least a week and a half," he said.
"But," I said, "I'm going to Hawaii tomorrow!"
Next week: My Hawaiian vacation. What went wrong? What went right? Does turkey taste better in the tropics? How do you say pass the stuffing in Korean? Will I get that job at the Honolulu Star-Bulletin? Am I really proud to be Samoan or am I just happy to see you?
All these questions and more will be answered in the next episode of "Running Thoughts."
- Greg Jerrett is a Daily Nonpareil staff writer. He can be contacted at 328-1811 ext. 279 or by e-mail at gjerrett@nonpareilonline.com.