Mickey & Me

It’s time to tell the Mickey Mouse story… “Who’s the leader of the club that’s made for you and me? M-I-C-K-E-Y — M-O-U-S-E!..”

As the old Turkish word ‘kismet’ suggests, it’s meant to be.

Let me explain: During the last series of Derry Girls, there was an episode were the adults had a class re-union with flashbacks of 1977 when they were teenagers. The story centred around their secret crudely self-inflicted Indian ink tattoos. Wow! I identified, as back then, I was all of 16 summers and scratched the name of a girl on my forearm… a Tyrone girl! No sooner was the ink dry, than she looked elsewhere for young love as Rod Stewart sang, “The first cut is the deepest, baby I know…”

Several weeks ago, through a third party, independent journalist Tanya Sweeney contacted me regarding a feature she was doing about tattoo removal, regrets and advice on said subject. Now read on…

In September 1995, it was time to settle down after years of digging holes and being locked in, locked out, locked up and air-locked. In my mid 30s, I said ‘goodbye’ at JFK, and embarked on a mature student life in Belfast. However, than darned tattoo was an ever-present, and she wasn’t coming back. After some research, I rang a ‘lazer-aid’ tattoo removal outfit on the Antrim Road. The lady on the line quoted £300 to have the letters removed. Doing the sums, without much thought as was my wont, I quickly figured out that a tattoo would be much less expensive, and that’s where the Mouse comes in!

In the summer of ‘95, I enjoyed a wonderful trip to California, which included a day at Disneyland, where I met none other than Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck, Pluto and all the gang! It was a recent memory that lifted the drudgery of grey autumn Belfast. And so I arrived at the tattoo artist near the City Hall with a picture of a smiling Mickey Mouse, his left arm raised in that happy wave. £60 it cost. What a mistake!

In her article, Tanya Sweeney quotes Aidan O’Connell, owner of Fade Laser Clinic in Grafton Street who has been inundated with queries since he opened his practice four years ago.

“About 20 per-cent of the people who get a tattoo, also get tattoo regret,” he says. “Some people say they made a mistake and it’s not them anymore. They got them when they were younger and the tattoo doesn’t have the same meaning anymore.” Indeed!

Within days, I hated that mouse! I recall dreaming one night that, to my great relief, it slid off my arm forever. On awakening there it was right in front of my eyes… Ah! a waking nightmare.

My giggling niece and nephew, age five and seven, constantly asked to see Mickey Mouse. It was a far cry from a menacing biker skull and crossbones. Perhaps the greatest ignominy was going to Clones of a hot July and the horror of glancing at my left forearm at Mickey Mouse resplendent in the back and amber of opponents Co Down.

Back in the day, British comedian Rod Hull and Emu were hugely popular. Hull rarely appeared without Emu; a mute, highly aggressive arm-length puppet modelled on the Australian flightless emu bird. The story goes that he came to hate Emu. On a presentation night, Hull went on stage with one arm the length of the other without the bird, and Jonathan Ross quipped, “Who are you?” This caused great hurt to Hull, who was nobody without Emu. I knew the feeling, but I couldn’t put Mickey Mouse in a suitcase packed with bricks and throw it in the River Lagan.

Making my way through social studies in Queen’s, I was also becoming more aware there was more to politics that green and orange, and Mickey Mouse was most definitely a capitalist and an exploitive American one at that. Enough already!

I rang lazer-aid again, made the appointment and after a consultation, the man with the zapper quoted me a price of £300. I told him the woman on the phone said £300 to delete four letters to which he replied, “That would have been £70, she shouldn’t have given you a price over the phone”. Ouch!

So, the course of treatments began. It was not one deletion as I imagined. The ink is scattered with lazers… zip! zip! zip! to the smell of burning skin… much sorer than getting the tattoo in the first place.

After the scab recovers, it’s back again for the next treatment. After ten goes or so, Mickey was history, save for a few small dark remnants that barely give a clue to the horror was there.

The tattoo business is booming. Lads have painted their necks and faces.

Ladies are getting ‘sleeves’. Sinead O’Connor, the critter, has a huge tattoo of the Sacred Heart of Jesus on her chest that resembles the sofa cover in Fr Ted.

However, Tanya Sweeney reports that in the US, around 23 million Americans live with tattoo regret with searches for ‘tattoo removal’ on Google between 2020 and 2021 increased by 40 per-cent.

It must be pointed out of course, years later many wear their tattoos with great pride. No regrets.

My advice: Never trust a talking mouse.