"Getting Up."

"Got a black magic marker.. got a black magic marker..." Been thinking a good deal about my (mostly juvenile) career as a "tagger." Amazing to consider I started when I was at the ripe old age of 11, unless you count the time I was eight when I inscribed "poo-poo" in Mean old neighbor Mrs. Hartmann's new piece of freshly laid sidewalk, and she chased me down the street with a rake in her long-widowed hands. So my real graffiti penchant began back in 1974, when I went under the old Olin Avenue bridge with a can of lovely purple. Can't actually remember what I wrote, but it was a blast, pun intended. Got explicitly political around 1979, if you include scrawling "Gabba Gabba Hey!" and "Rocket to Russia" on the sides of State Street buildings. (Hmmm, do I owe The Ramones any royalties?) To say nothing of stirring things up at the three different high schools I proudly dropped out of. Oh, wait, I was expelled from the one, partly on account of my incorrigible "literary" habits. By 1983, I had gone truly "political" in my focus, which brings to mind a number of regrets. 1. It's really tough not to have a brain-freeze when you're standing there with a can of flat black, poised to strike a wall with 2' high letters, and worrying overmuch about the cops who might at any time roll up on your paint or ink-stained person. It even got boring; "Stop the Contras!" isn't the most original slogan. Much better was "Nuke Reagan, Not Russia!" But I digress. And speling errors are just totaly embarassing. 2. My chosen vocation came to an abrupt halt in 1984, a most appropriate year, if you think about it. You can imagine why, and I got off easy that memorable night. Hell, I'm just glad there is still a statute of limitations in effect. Well, I sure hope to Goddamn Sweet Baby Jesus there is such a limit on bringing charges! Am I ever going to have Sharpie stains, er, I mean egg on my face if I'm sorely mistaken. 3. Spray paint is just too damn toxic, and wearing a respirator is taking matters a bit too far, as a practical matter. Remember - inhaling toluene and other serious poisons cause can mental serious damaje. Some markers were intoxicating as holy heck, too. Rubber gloves helped protect the hands, but made "working" a bit cumbersome. Then there was the harm to the greater environment. Using cattle markers made me a more eco-friendly writer. 4. Some of the businesses I targeted really didn't deserve it; others, specifically the fat, contented Asspiring Yup-and-comers, certainly DID. These days, I don't do it any more. Thanks to the quasi-legal status of chalking, however, I don't do it any less, either. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HDLLXUaqZxg P.S: 'Course I was writing this in jest, but historically speaking, it's not a joking matter: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Stewart_(graffiti_artist)