Thomas Cave's Tattoo

At the New York Times, we (reporters) were not allowed by the copy desk to use the word "irony." In ironical situations. As in, "ironically, ..." The copy editors encouraged us to say, "paradoxically" instead. In a pinch.

What to do? It was just a rule. Some of the best bars in New York have rules. If you want to drink in them, you abide by them. At some point in the history of American journalism, the New York Times was a very great bar. And I don't mean that ironically.

What to do about Mr. Cave's tattoo, though. The gentleman in the photograph who graces this home page. He had his social security number tattooed on his arm. Was this a defiant gesture? He looks defiant, as only the handsome and smart can look defiant, in Dorothea Lange's beautiful portrait of him, with his wife. Was this the defiance of confidence? Or high intelligence? Or the defiance of honesty - that at this moment in time, nothing could have put the cards on the table like branding yourself with the government's number for you. For better or worse. That it was little to lose - your name, your identity, the broad expanse of your bicep - if you had the confidence of your life and the love of your wife behind you?

Was it expediency? Was this man tired of being asked, by the swarming worker-bee bureacracies, as he followed work. Foremen, agencies, photographers, press corps. The Great Depression, for better or worse, became, thanks to the government, a media event. Perhaps one of the first, best, and well-orchestrated, of the twentieth century.



I'm reminded of a more recent generation that made popular the idea of having bar codes tattooed to the backs of their necks, as if to say, we are not persons, we are products to scan. To sell, or sell to.

I admire Mr. Cave's impulse more. It seems cleaner, more like real irony. He wears it seriously, but lightly. He's put himself up for full exchange, with the confidence of winning. Maybe that's what the Times feared we had lost of the gift of doing. For everyone who can do it, do it.

Thanks for listening, ma'am.