The Rubber Biskit Road Show Presents: "The Contract"

The Rubber Biskit Road Show Presents: "The Contract"

In January of 1976, The GYPSY found himself at a crossroads, poised on the brink of a promising career in the art world. While attending Art School, he received a lucrative contract offer from a major greeting card company, seemingly destined for success in the traditional realm of illustration.

However, fate had other plans in store for The GYPSY that day. A brief stop while killing time would lead him down an unexpected path, transforming his life and career trajectory in ways he could never have imagined.

In this captivating podcast episode, The GYPSY recounts the twists and turns that led him to become an award-winning and highly experienced Tattoo Artist in Kansas. Through engaging storytelling and candid reflection, he shares the pivotal moments and serendipitous encounters that shaped his journey from aspiring illustrator to renowned tattooist.

Listeners are invited to join The GYPSY as he unravels the threads of his past, weaving together anecdotes and insights into the art of tattooing and the colorful characters he encountered along the way. From chance encounters to life-changing decisions, each step of The GYPSY's journey serves as a testament to the power of following one's passion and embracing the unexpected opportunities that life presents.

Whether you're a seasoned tattoo enthusiast or simply curious about The GYPSY's unique path to success, this podcast promises to entertain, inspire, and perhaps even leave you with a newfound appreciation for the art of tattooing and the remarkable journey of Kansas's most experienced tattoo artists.

PLEASE NOTE: This is a rebroadcast of a podcast episode from 04/02/2022. I stopped podcasting to help my wife through her battle with stage 4 breast cancer. My wife recovered and I am now ready to start podcasting once more. Over the next couple of months, I will repost my past podcasts and start new episodes in 2024.

“Like a Rubber Biskit, I have spent my life bouncing from here to there and back to here again.”  -The GYPSY-

Please Support Our Kickstarter Campaign To Bring  "Never Say Never: An Epic Journey - Volume Two" To Press. Click Here For Details

I'm The GYPSY and You're Not and This Is The Rubber Biskit Road Show Presented By Artist Alley Studio Featuring The Artisan, Handcrafted and Branded Creations of The GYPSY and Mad Hatter. Visit Us At www.ArtistAlleyStudio.com

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Visit The Rubber Biskit Road Show On The Web At  www.RubberBiskit.com
Tatman Productions LLC. Copyright 2021 - All Rights Reserved. No Parts of The Podcast May Be Copied, Reproduced or Used Without The Express Written Permission Of The Artist.

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Chapters

• 0:00 Episode Beginning
• 1:23 Update On Raychel's Cancer
• 2:28 The Contract
• 6:16 Walking Away
• 7:05 The Tattoo Parlor
• 7:53 The Tattooist
• 8:59 The Insight
• 9:58 Arriving Home
• 10:29 The Announcement
• 11:18 Milestones
• 15:10 On The Road
• 15:39 Notable Moments
• 16:13 Ethics, Morals and Beyond
• 17:48 The Decision
• 19:13 Episode Ending

Transcript

Season1RBRSEpisode24 - Podcast.mp3

Transcript

Welcome to Episode 24 of the Rubber Biscuit Roadshow. I am your host, the Gypsy. Well, as I'm sure you've noticed, that my podcast isn't coming out once a week like I promised. And I'm sorry for that. It's actually coming out right now every other week. As you all know, if you've been playing the podcast, my wife Rachel is under treatment for stage 2 breast cancer. She's under chemotherapy. Some days are bad days, some days are good days. But honestly, all days are bad, days are just some days that are not as bad as others on the days when she takes her chemo. Those are bad days. On those days I try to drop most of everything I'm doing so that I can spend time with her and see her through that day. Some of these days have happened to fall on the days when I would be recording the rubber biscuit roadshow, so the rubber biscuit roadshow for the time being takes second place for my wife Rachel, actually, to be truthful about it, the rubber biscuit roadshow will always take second place to my wife, Rachel, she always takes first place. To me. So that's my way of an explanation of why I'm not releasing a podcast every week, and I hope you can accept that. I also hope that you will continue to pray for my wife Rachel's healing. I would really appreciate that. Well, as you know. Everybody has a story and everybody's story has a beginning that point in their life that changed the course of their life, changed what direction they would go for the rest of their. Life. I'm like everybody else. I have a story and I have a story that has a beginning, a story that changed the direction of my life and where I would go. That story is called the contract. I sat in the chair in front of the enormous desk holding the contract in my hands, across from me, hands folded in front of him, sat the man in the suit and the tie with the Windsor knot that had handed me the contract. I had just read Article 15 which stayed it too wet. Any and all work that I did over the next 15 years to belong to the greeting card company that was wanting to hire me as an artist. I looked at the man and thought how ridiculous his blue and red striped tie looked against the dark green of his suit. His eyeglasses reflected the light. He looked like a Christmas tree with a sparkling tree Topper. The date was January 5th, 1976 and I had just graduated mid term from my high school. I was taking college art classes and was not really sure what direction I wanted to go in life. The one thing I was sure of, and the one thing I had always been sure of ever since I was a young child, was that I would be an artist. Nothing else in the world interested in me more than an art to spend my life creating art was my idea of a life well spent. I laid the contract on the man's desk and sat back in my chair. He studied me and I studied him. Well, what do you think? He asked. What I thought was, how did you get My Portfolio? I suspect that that I knew he had got how he had got My Portfolio, my well, mean mother whose dream it was for me to go to work for this well known and well respected greeting card company had probably sent it to them. That is what I wanted to ask the living Christmas decorations. Sitting across from me. But what is a? It was let me get this straight. Any and all work I do over the next 15 years belongs exclusively to your company. So does that mean that if I paint them your own, hang it over my fireplace that you can come into my home and take that painting? He stammered. Well, technically, I cut him off. This is a simple yes or no question. Yes you can. No, you can't. The human Christmas tree shook off the loose needles, cleared his throat and said, well, theoretically I cut him off with a wave in my hand as I stood up. Well, theoretically, I said, turning towards the door. I'm going to have to think about it. Mr. Excellence jumped to his feet. We are really interested in signing you. The contract will be here when you are ready to sign. He pointed at his desk, indicating the stack of neatly typed papers that lay upon it. Over the years I've thought about that contract lane on East Desk and I have wondered to myself. I wonder how dusty that contract is, because I knew when I stepped out that door and it closed behind me that I would never be back. I was 19 years old at the time, and as I rode down in the glass and shrouded elevator, all I could think to myself was if I had signed that contract, I would be an old man of 34 years old by the time expired. Now there are some people that would say I was crazy for not signing on with the greeting card company. I mean, after all, with the progressive salary raises that the contract offered by the time they expired in 1989. I would be pulling down $50,000 a year, not to mention accumulated bonuses, benefits and a fat pension package at that time. That was a chunk of cash even in this day and age, it is nothing to sneeze. That yet to me, it wasn't enough to sign my soul away. There is never enough money for that. As I walked out of the large center that held the offices that I would never be returning to, the chill wind sent a shiver up my spine. I stood and let the sunshine try to warm my face as I wondered. Is it the wind that makes me cold, or is it the thought of what I just turned down? That leaves me chills. There was one thing I knew for sure. I wasn't in a big hurry to return home. My mother's dream for me had always been for me to go to work for that particular card company, but it wasn't my dream. No, I would have to return home and tell my mother that her hopes, plans and aspirations for me were not the hopes, plans and aspirations I had for myself as I drove down mainstream. And city, Missouri. I look to my right and my left for some distraction for something that would allow me to kill some time so that I could delay the inevitable scene that would occur when I told my mother what I had decided. That is when I saw it, the tattoo parlor. I turned the corner and pulled into the parking lot behind the building. I had never been inside a tattoo parlor. The thought of going into a tattoo parlor had never even crossed my mind, let alone the thought of getting a tattoo. On this day, my only thought was let's go in and check this out and see if it's just like it is on TV and in the movies. Besides, I was looking for a way to kill time and this was a good way as. And. As I walked into the building, the smell of alcohol, soap and cigarette smoke assailed my nostrils. The walls were filled with the Morad of cartoonish looking designs on large cardboard sheets. I would later learn that these were called flash, the only sound inside the building was the music playing from an old radio upon a shelf, and the insistent. Buzzing of the tattoo gun. In this time and place, the terms parlor and gun were appropriate. That would not be the case in the future, when those terms would become archaic and be replaced with studio and machine. But the tattoos who sat behind the counter in his parlor, tattooing the arm of a man with his gun, was not only appropriate but descriptive of the atmosphere of this. Place and the individual who's imposing presence ruled this domain. I swallowed hard, cleared my throat, and then in a voice meeker than I had intended, said. Excuse me, Sir. Do you mind if I watch you work without looking up from the bicep? They was tattooing a Peacock on to the tattoos marked out. Yeah, but don't talk to me. I will not bore you with the details of my longtime standing there watching this man tattoo to go into detail about what he tattooed that day, who he tattooed that day and where those tattoos were placed on the numerous bodies I walked in and out of his shop would do nothing but put you to sleep and cause you to stop reading this narrative. What is important to note was that 14 hours after I had. First, ask Jean if I could watch him. And he locked those doors to his parlor for the day. I was still there. So yes, as he locked the door. When are you going to Start learning how to tattoo? I laughed. What makes you think I want to learn how to tattoo? She eyed me up and down and shook his head. Boy, let me tell you something. I have been tattooing for 28 years. I am a third generation. My daddy tattooed before me and his daddy before him. Nobody. And I mean nobody, stands for 14 hours straight with their mouth closed watching me work though it doesn't want to learn. I was a 19 year old kid who thought he had all the answers, who believed that no one knew what was going on in this whole wide world any better than he did. I looked at Gene smirked and said I'll have to think about it. He outright, he said. I'll see you in the morning. The drive home between Kansas City and Saint Joe that morning seemed to take longer than usual. My mind was working overtime waned, balancing, determining, and desperately trying to see into my murky, crowded and unknown future. Around 4:00 AM, I walked in the door of the apartment that I shared with my mother and sister. My mother sat on the couch, waiting for me, a stack of magazines and newspapers next to her. She jumped up as I entered the apartment and oh, most, no doubt in her excitement, screamed. Where have you been? Where have you been?

What did they say? When did you?

Start work for them. I took off my coat, dropped it over the back of the chair by my mother's prized piano. I turned around and faced her. You could not miss a look of excited anticipation on her face. I cleared my throat and said. I'm not going to work for them. The look of excitement left my mother's face and was instantly replaced by a look of confusion.

What do you mean you're not going to work for them if you don't go to work for the greeting card company, what on Earth are you going to do?

Mustering up as much of my manly 19 year old fortitude as I possibly could, I looked my mother dead in the eye and said I'm going to be a tattoo artist. She promptly screamed and fainted. My grandmother took it a little better than my mother did when I phoned her to give her the news and I told her what I had decided there was a slight pause on the other end of the line. I heard her exhale and then she asked. Will it make you happy? I said yes, ma'am. It will, my grandmother said. Well, then, that's all that matters. In my 46 year career, I've had my milestones, many accomplishments and many let downs. I have always chosen not to dwell upon the down side of my career, but rather on the upside and what I have been able to give back to a profession that has given so much to me. I have three associates degrees, forestry and wildlife management, technical illustration, mechanical drafting, and psychiatric technician. I've had the 1st Tattoo Studios in St. Joseph, MO, Abilene, TX, Midland, TX, San Angelo, TX, Baxter Springs, KS, Iowa, Kansas, and Independence, KS also had the 1st. Legally registered Tattoo Studio in the state of Oklahoma and from 1995 to 2010, I was the officially recognized tattoo authority for the Osage Nation. I was the first person in the state of Kansas to actually go to school to learn how to Pierce and learn how to do microdermal implantation. What is commonly referred to as cosmetic tattooing. At one time it was believed that you couldn't tattoo over scars. In 1977, I was allowed the opportunity to practice scar cover up on a gentleman that had been burnt over 3/4 of his body. I spent a year working on his arm and taking notes. I developed a procedure that worked for covering up his heavy scar tissue with tattoos, and I wrote a paper on it in 19. 78 tattoo artists that cover up scar tissue today may not know where the technique came from that they have learned to do, but that's OK because it gives me satisfaction to know how many people have been helped because of work I did in 1977 and 1978. Recently I heard of a tattoo artist in Ohio who is donating their time to cover the scars of victims of severe. Drama. I cannot tell you how happy it makes me to hear of other people in my profession giving back with something that I helped develop. I promoted, organized and sponsored the very first ever tattoo convention in Kansas, which ran from 1993 to 1997. I have been a senior zookeeper, a soldier, a truck driver, a bar owner, and a school bus driver. I have driven ice cream vans, been an art teacher, actor and common laborer together with my wife I founded. Valley and American ghost Riders of Paranormal Research Group I am an artist and author. An illustrator and a psychic, I ran for the Kansas House of Representatives in 2006 and I am the creator and Executive Director of Top Cong Geek Expo, which was the very first ever fan convention in Topeka, KS. I have donated of my time, my energies, my talents and myself to numerous civic and charitable causes. I was the chairman of the Baxter Springs Joint, Historic and Beautification Committee. I have sat on the board of directors of the Baxter Springs Chamber of Commerce, Southeast Kansas Tourism Region, and the four State Tattoo Association. I was an Explorer, scout, advisor, and a children's art teacher.

Here.

And through all these things I have done and been, I continue my body art career, practicing my love of tattooing and piercing. In 2008, I became one of only 27 people worldwide that had taken and passed the Alliance of Professional Tattoos Tattoo Mastery test. In 2009, I was appointed to the Kansas Board of Cosmetology by Governor Mark Brown as a representative for the body art industry in the state of Kansas. I have one of the first websites ever on the Internet dedicated to tattooing and piercing. I have owned the Wu B tattoo.com domain since 1994. I am a resident expert on body art on all experts.com, which unfortunately is no longer around. Because Google kind of. I don't know. How would you say it killed? And I have written numerous articles about tattooing and piercing as well as doing the lecture circuit discussing body art, safety and ethics from 1988 through 2010. I owned several different state-of-the-art mobile facilities and worked. The shown event circuit during the summer months. Arizona to Kansas, OK to Missouri. To Ohio, I traveled. I tattooed, I pierced South Dakota to Arkansas, to New Hampshire, to Iowa, to Texas. I did the miles, and I did the art. Pennsylvania to South Carolina, to Nebraska, to Wyoming, to New Mexico. I left no Rd. untraveled and no quite unmarked. I have given countless television and radio interviews as well as appearing and starring in movies and television documentaries about tattooing, piercing and the paranormal. I even share top billing in a movie with Peter Fonda, Jim Dandy, Greg Allman, Willie Nelson Slaughter, and Paul Revere. I have won numerous awards and accolades for the tattoo Art I create both nationally and internationally. I have artwork in the Smithsonian Institution as well as in museums in Kansas and elsewhere in the United States. I am even part of an exhibit about American art that is featured in a traveling museum in Australia. My art and the career that I chose to follow have put food on my family's table, clothes on my children's back, and a roof over my family's head. I am an old school tattoo artist and proud of that. Act I make no apologies to anyone for the art I create, nor the style of that art. I do not compare my work to others, and I do not appreciate when others compare their work to mine. All artists, no matter what medium they work in, have their style. You cannot compare Van Gogh to Renoir. You cannot compare Michelangelo to Rodin and you can not compare Sailor Jerry to the Gypsy. All have their styles all have their niche and all have their separate following. The type of art I like is not the type of art that another person may like. And vice versa. I have been practicing my tattoo art for 46 years now and truthfully I am tired. It is not that I am tired of tattooing because I'm not. It's not that I'm tired of creating art because I am not what I am tired of is ignorance, ignorance that comes from rudeness and the rudeness that comes from disrespect. For 46 years I have dealt with the truly ignorant. Truly rude. The truly disrespectful and with the widespread popularity of social networking, the trolls have become more and more ignorant, rude, and disrespectful, and I'm just tired of. It is an unfortunate statement on our society that you cannot educate those who refuse to be educated. I know I have tried to educate people, but while some learn others close their eyes, they close their ears and they close their minds. Those are barriers that you just cannot pass through and I am done trying. That is why I have decided to pass the torch to younger, more enthusiastic members of the. Body art community. In the near future, I will be retiring from body art. I will go back to where it all started. I will lay down my tattoo machine and pick up my paintbrush and my art will have come full circle. So it is with life. Everything comes full circle and there is no beginning and there is no end in my career. I have apprenticed 18 people. Now those 18 people free prove their worth. It is to those three that I will leave my legacy, my hopes and my dream. Two, my final chapter will never be wrote because within all those I have taught, touched and loved in my life and in my career, my story will continue. They will take all that they have learned from me and they will expand it. They will improve upon it and they will pass it on to those who want to learn and will further expand on and improve the world of body art. Just like I did with what I learn. I will live on from generation to generation and the ethics and passion I contributed to tattooing and piercing will live on also, because just as I drank from the spring that formed me, so too did they drink from the spring that formed them and those who come after them will drink from their spring. So when that day comes that I do announce my retirement. Do not mourn for what has ended. Rather rejoice with me and what has begun. Because, baby, you ain't seen nothing yet. Well, that concludes this episode of the Rubber Biscuit Roadshow. Be sure to jump back in with us next week if I can do the podcast next week. Hopefully I can. When we just talk about random stuff. I don't know, I may come up with the subject and I'll post it if I do. But if I don't, we'll just randomly talk about things like we had before. If you don't hear from me next week. You will be sure to hear from me the week after because I will never let more than two weeks go by until I come to see you because you are my favorite person and I love visiting with you. But until that time happens, this is your friendly neighborhood Gypsy saying. May God bless and keep you and yours later, Gators. Bye bye now.