Still Pierced

I haven't worn one in more than a decade. But I shouldn't have been surprised that one could still fit.

When DW and I were dating, we went on a spring vacation with a couple of friends to Daytona Beach, Florida. It was the typical university-student thing to do in the early 90s—I imagine it still is but there's no way I'd ever set foot in that state again.

While we were there, we were partying with a bunch of other young folks at a nightclub, and in one corner of the room, a woman had set up to give piercings. Egged on by DW, I agreed to get my left lobe pierced. I even got one of our friends to do the same.

In the early 90s, it was still relatively uncommon for a guy to get his ears pierced, and once home I received heckling from my father. My manager at the camera store, where I was the assistant manager, demanded that I remove it. I refused and had the regional manager's backing, though even he didn't think it was suitable attire.

Still, he respected my decision to keep it and told my manager that there was no company policy that restricted men from having any piercings.

I kept an earring in that lobe for about five or six years, finally deciding to remove it before DW and I packed up our life and moved to South Korea. Our destination had nothing to do with the decision to remove my earring: I just decided that it was time for a change.

About 10 years later, after DW and I had kids, we were members of the Ottawa Blues Society and would often volunteer to work a booth that the club held, in exchange for free admission to the Bluesfest grounds and access to shows. The OBS would sell t-shirts, CDs, and handmade trinkets that advertised for the club.

Our kids loved to hang out at the tent and even were great at promoting the merchandise. Seeing a cute kid with a guitar brooch that flashed with tiny coloured lights brought lots of sales.

Before Bluesfest began, we'd meet at one of the members' houses to make other trinkets. We'd make guitar pick earrings, with the OBS logo on them. The kids loved to help make them, and as we constructed the earrings, I had mentioned to the kids, who both had pierced ears, that I used to wear an earring. This revelation got the girls excited.

"Can you still wear one?" asked Kid 1.

"I don't know."

"Can we try to put one on you?" asked Kid 2.

"Sure. Either the earring will go through or it won't," I said. "Just be gentle and go slowly."

We had rubbing alcohol and Polysporin ointment handy, so I let Kid 1 guide the earring through the closed hole in my left lobe while Kid 2 supervised. The stem had no problem going into the front but the back of my lobe was a bit stubborn. Kid 1 was nervous as she could see the thin skin bulging by what looked like the exit hole, but the stem wasn't coming through.

"Is it hurting?" she asked.

"No, I'm good. Keep pushing, and if it starts to hurt, I'll ask you to stop."

I heard a slight 'pop' and then laughter as the kids successfully got the earring stem through my ear. We rubbed the antiseptic ointment around my lobe, just to make sure that no infection could take hold. When we had finished assembling earrings, I removed the dangling guitar pick from my lobe, disinfected it, and added it to the sale items.

It wasn't my style of earring.

Days later, on the Bluesfest grounds, DW took the girls for a walk while I held the OBS tent. During the shows, customers were scarce so it was easy to watch the merchandise on my own. When they returned, the girls were carrying a tiny paper bag and they had smiles on their faces.

"We got you something," they said in unison, failing to hold back their glee.

2008

Inside the bag was a small, silver loop earing, like a tiny wedding band. It was simple but beautiful. DW explained that the girls were looking for rings for themselves and they saw this earring. It was inexpensive because it had originally been a set of two, but the vendor had lost one of them.

I only needed one.

We had disinfectant in a first-aid kit in the OBC booth, so we cleaned the earring and I let Kid 1 put it on me. I wore it for years but eventually, I made the decision to stop wearing an earring again, sometime around 2010 or 2011.

It's been about a dozen years since I've worn an earring and honestly believed that I'd never wear one again. I had gone a decade between wearing one, before, and it was a bit of a challenge to get one through the hole. I was sure that after another 12 years, it would be even harder.

A friend of ours was celebrating her 55th birthday, the other weekend, and decided that she wanted a pirate-themed party. I'm not really into dressing up for parties but thought I would dress in black, wield a toy sword, and try to see if I could wear a big, looped earring.

2023

I was doubtful, as I can barely see the hole anymore, but I placed the stem where I thought the hole should be and pushed. To my surprise, I got the earring in, but it stopped as the stem reached the back of my ear. I couldn't feel anything by touching the back of my lobe, so I had DW help locate a small scar and push.

While my ear didn't hurt when my kid pushed an earring through, in the late 2000s, it hurt this time and there was a tiny amount of blood. I rubbed Polysporin around the lobe and deemed that I looked more piratey with the loop.

The earring felt heavy on my lobe and I was always conscious of it, so halfway through the party, I took it off. Days later, the entrance hole scabbed up and even at the time of writing this post, there's a dry spot on my lobe.

I'd say that I'm done with earrings, but who knows? Maybe in another decade or so, I'll be pushing another post through my lobe.