When I was 12 or 13 I asked my father about tattoos. I don't know where this thought came from as there was nobody but nobody who had a tattoo and there were no tattoo parlors around anywhere. I assume in retrospect that it must have come from one of the chick flick sailor movies that were very popular at the time. My father had a practical bend and he said that if I got a tattoo I would quickly be identified if I ever did a criminal act. At that age I did not want to rule out a career as bank robber or jewelry thief and I never pursued the tattoo again. Still don't have one.
The movies all had the same theme: sailor boy meets girl and they fall in love. He joins the merchant marines and dies on a lonely island because of a falling coconut. She never marries but pines for him for 40 years when one day she finds a bottle in the toilet that came up through the sewer and she recognized his handwriting! He loved her until the coconut episode. She has a heart attack and falls into the toilet. End of movie. Something like that. We all cried and cried.
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