Portions For Foxes
Of all my tattoos, this one gets the most attention. Everyone that meets me for the first time, and sees it, tends to ask the same question: “What does it say?”
Now something most people dont realize, is that it is actually kinda rude to ask about a person’s tattoos. Tattoos are a very personal thing, and more often than not (except for the tribal arm bands and other trendy tattoos) are reminders of points in time, or activities, or people that the person wants to remember, but not necessarily share.
Sometimes, when I am asked, I just say that its a reminder to not be taken advantage of. Other times, I make jokes.
“It says, stop asking me about my tattoos.” Is a common response. “Regardless of what you might think, Jewish men do have 13 inch penises.” If I am being a bit cheeky.
But, if you catch me at the right time, I will tell you the real translation:
“They shall be hurled to the might of the sword, and be portions for foxes.”
Its not a reference to the Rilo Kiley song, Portions for Foxes although its a great song.
Rather it comes from Psalm 63.
And it reminds me to not be taken advantage of.
You see, there is a character trait I have that I love. I am loyal. I am helpful. I enjoy doing things for others. I enjoy being the strength that others cant muster in themselves.
The downside to that is, on occasion, I am seen as the safe choice. As the guy that will always be there.
Which sometimes leads to being the guy that watches women that I really care for date other people, but come to me when they need support. Or watch things being asked for and expected from me grow, every so slowly over time, to pass the stage of the appropriate things to ask a friend.
For a long time, I never said no. I never walked away. I bit my tongue.
“There’s blood in my mouth ’cause I’ve been biting my tongue all week
I keep on talkin’ trash but I never say anything” – Rilo Kiley
And it cost me tens of thousands of dollars.
It cost me time and hurt feelings.
It cost me part of that strength I was so quick to give.
So the day those Hebrew words were tattoo’d on my arm, I decided to no longer be that guy. That I would control the depth of the leaning I would allow others to do. That I would notice when the line was crossed, and unless I could readjust expectations, I would take that failing friendship and “throw it against the might of the sword,” with regret, and leave it as “portions for foxes,” sadly.
But leave it I would.
My greatest sadness is that people dont think they deserve kindness. People consider kindness provides without expectation of reciprocation unbelievable. People assume ulterior motives, and when there are none, they preempt the “other shoe falling,” even when there is no other shoe, and wrongly destroy friendships.
There is nothing in this world easier to give or receive than kindness. But nothing is viewed with more disbelief than kindness.
Sad isnt it?
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I totally agree with this. Sometimes when strangers come up to me and ask me about my tattoos I want to let them know how rude/annoying it is. When I'm in a decent mood, I certainly have the super-abridged version of what my tattoos mean. I do tend to mess with people when they ask about the Japanese, because like you mentioned – it's personal. I usually tell people it means “I am awesome” or “it means that if i wanted you to understand it, i'd have gotten english tattooed on me” The rest of it – I'll tell people if I know them, but otherwise i'll ask someone to tell me something really intense and awful that happened to them in trade for an explanation of my work.
I have never understood why people feel like they can ask, grab,
touch, etc. Just because I have tattoos. Most of them are lucky I
don't punch them.
Thanks for this post about boundaries… and the extent we need to serve ourselves as well as do service for others and learn not to be taken advantage of. (I can so relate!) “Portions for foxes” will never mean anything else again.
(And thanks for the heads up re: tattoo etiquette… I just thought if it was there to be read, it was all for public consumption — DUH — now I know. :)
Micah,
Very excellent post.
I hope that some of the relationships thrown to the might of the sword may have been reborn, as the other person got their act together.
I asked when I first met you because it was so unusual, unique, and my hebrew is awful so I couldn't read it myself.
People ask because when so visible and unique, tattoos are often seen as a public statement. A name is easily understood. Symbols are…simple. I see a co-worker with the Black Flag bars and I know he's into 80's hardcore.
But a gigantic tattoo in a foreign language on one's forearm is a statement, and I would take each opportunity to explain as an opportunity to do what you just did, and teach someone something knew.
Andrew, I quite agree. The piece missing is the simple request of “do
you mind if I ask you about your tattoos?”
Sometimes I am not in the mood or busy, or perhaps the tattoo is too
personal.
Asking first implies respect. Grabbing my arm or requesting a
translation immediately shows a serious lack thereof.
Grabbing your arm is just a bad idea in general ;-)
Very true. But it happens more than you would imagine. Or the constant
staring. Bleh.
I am one of those guilty of asking what that text translated to, although I didn't touch. I don't like being touched by random people either. I really hate being poked by people who use that to emphasize their conversations! But, like many, I thought that if the tattoo's out there, it's okay to ask and that the “public” display was to invite conversation. Otherwise, I thought it would be somewhere normally clothed. So, my apology for my gaff in tatt etiquette, but I just didn't know or realize that this is an invasion of personal space, like being physically touched.
Quite different from the guy who insisted, “I have your name on my penis” and wanted to bet $50. And, in fact, showed me, in a bar in Nashvile next to the original Grand Ol' Opry that he *did* have “Your Name” tattoed on his penis with “Happy Birthday” on the other side!
Im a little disappointed that the comments have centered around “tattoo etiquette” (never tats – bleh), which 1) doesnt exist; and 2) basically are just common sense and respect for persona space. What this post is about is the reality that people take kindness and assume a nefarious intent. That people see kindness as something that is used as a manipulation and always has strings attached.
I guess the lack of discussion around that concept means that folks either agree with the premise, or 2) are embarrassed in its truth. Fuck the tattoos, they are unimportant.
Just found your blog through Mark Davidson on Twitter – I commend you for your openness – definitely refreshing to read a blog post that goes in depth.
Thanks. Openness is one of the two rules I really live by. Thanks
again for the nice comment.
Thank you for the etiquette lesson. I didn't know that if someone has a tattoo displayed openly I am not supposed to ask about it. I have probably done this, thinking I was just showing interest in the person and making conversation. I'll do better from now on.
I also wanted to thank you, Micah, for being the friend that women can talk to. It sounds like they were doing a little too much of that. But really, we appreciate that. You're a valuable asset, we need nice guys to remind us that they exist. But I agree you should not have been taken advantage of.
Hi Micah,
I understand your concern about privacy. I have friends who tattoo but weirdly, they enjoy people asking them the meaning of the Tattoos. At times they feel really proud of it. I've ever asked them. Don't you get sick and tired of people asking you the meaning of those tattoos, they just replied. I enjoyed it. If I don't want people to ask me, then I should probably tattoo them on my butt so nobody get's to see it.
When the visual stops, the question stops too.
I was very conscious unless I got my first tattoo on upper arm, but once I had it , I felt as if I'm going to be playing lead role in next Hollywood block buster. I even find it interesting when people ask me about the details.
I was very conscious unless I got my first tattoo on upper arm, but once I had it , I felt as if I'm going to be playing lead role in next Hollywood block buster. I even find it interesting when people ask me about the details.
I have a similar personality trait of always being the one to help others and it has cost me dearly over the years, financially and emotionally. I am still working on no longer being everyone's doormat but it is difficult to draw that line and not let others push me over it.