I was told that when I moved to Williamsburg, I would have to get some tattoos. I was told it was required—they check at the borders—and that if I didn’t get a few, only the elderly Polish people would talk to me. I decided they were fibbing, but that I’d go along anyway. The thing everybody says about tattoos is that they are with you for your whole life, but at this point, that isn’t such an issue. Some friends have offered up the opinion that I'm going through a mid-life crisis. I can only hope they are right, as that would mean I’m going to live to be 116. I have always loved my mid-life crises, often long after we’ve broken up. I haven’t done the one with the Porsche convertible yet, but I can’t wait.

I turned to my pal Dana Dynamite, the PR over at Sailor Jerry, to hook me up with a tattoo artist worthy of my insanity. She introduced me to Adam Korothy, who works at Asylum tattoos in Williamsburg.

Adam, a native New Yorker, specializes in old school, traditional-style tattoos. He learned to master the trade when he lived in New Orleans after he left college. After going through a zillion possibilities, I got myself a naked damsel adorned with dice and playing cards and the words “Don’t Bet on Dames” over her outstretched arms. Yes, those words define most of my previous mid-life crises. My second tat, done 10 minutes after the first (‘cause that’s the way I roll), is of a shrimp. I’m not sure how that happened.

I’m obsessed with Sailor Jerry, not only for the inspiration to cover my entire body in ink, but as a brand that's doing something cool everywhere I look, everyday. Their posters hawk hipsters at important train stations. They are continuously booking free concerts, like the Circle Jerks this Saturday for the X-Games in Aspen, and they rocked it all summer long in my ‘hood. They will be doing loads of stuff at SXSW and Coachella this spring.

They also have a cool coffee table book out just now called Homeward Bound, which goes along with the documentary Hori Smoku Sailor Jerry: The Life and Times of Norman Keith Collins, directed by Erich Weiss. They’re distributing three limited edition labels of the rum in honor of what would be Sailor Jerry’s hundredth birthday. They are out there, doing everything they can to create an image and define the Sailor Jerry brand, which includes a clothing line. I support them because they are giving so much back to the community, even if they’re doing it to grow their brand. I asked Dana Dynamite to describe her and her co-worker’s efforts to promote everything Sailor Jerry.

“We have been doing wicked free rock shows. Sailor Jerry Rum is for the people, by the people. You won’t see any red carpet, no head sets. We are not some faux-pirate with a lame story that’s sponsoring the Black Eyed Peas. We are a real, authentic brand, which keeps the Sailor Jerry’s legacy alive by honoring an American legend.”

If Dynamite wasn’t her name, I think we might call her that anyway. Liquor brands vie for our loyalty, and sometimes a quirk or an act of God propels a product from obscurity to being on everyone’s lips. I remember selling Stolichnaya to everyone until the Ruskies shot down a passenger jet, and then no one would touch the stuff. I saw bartenders pouring it into drains. Absolut stepped up with hip marketing campaigns, becoming the only game in town. Ketel and Belvedere had runs until the world decided that Grey Goose was the real deal. Ciroc, with celebrity backing, made some moves, and then everyone and their backers launched a vodka. Let’s not get into Tequilas. It’s a dog eat dog world in the liquor brand marketing world (in the tequila market, maybe it’s worm eat worm). Establishing a brand means beaucoup bucks. Watching Sailor Jerry come into its own, due to the efforts of its fearless crew, is interesting. I honor them with 2 (going on 7) tattoos, and a toast of the sweet stuff to the inspirational Norman “Sailor Jerry” Collins.