As I passed the fountain in Washington Square Park. My attention turned to a Father playing with his daughters. While the young man’s tough, street wise look wouldn’t merit him as a poster boy for Fatherhood. His loving, protective manner with his girls was, to say the very least, moving. As he began to turn towards me. I began to notice the tattoo on his forearm. Being that I had just been complaining how, if I had known twenty years ago that tattoos would become so common and flat out random. I might have never gotten any. And while I still can’t fake any interest when a friend asks me “Want to see my new tat?” I can certainly appreciate a good one when I see it.