Image provided by: University of Oregon Libraries; Eugene, OR
About Oregon daily emerald. (Eugene, Or.) 1920-2012 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 20, 1978)
Oil slick soaks Millrace ducks If you don’t see the ducks and geese on the Millrace for a few days, don’t worry about their being the main course for someone’s dinner. The birds were the victims of an oil slick Thursday, and plans were in motion in the late afternoon to remove and clean them. “We have to find someone who knows how to clean the oil off them, and then we need a place to keep them for a week or two,” said Ed Groszkiewicz, field representative of the state Department of Environment Quality (DEQ). Cornstarch and mineral oil remove diesel fuel better than soap and water according to Groszkiewicz. However, the birds’ natural body oil is removed with the diesel oil when they’re cleaned. They must be kept warm and out - of the water until the natural oils return, or they’ll sink instead of swim. The major danger to water fowl from an oil slick is hypothermia (a drop in body temperature), which results from the oil compacting their feathers and removing the feathers’ insulating ability, Groszkiewicz said. “A spot of oil three centimeters in diameter on the bird’s chest is enough to make it pre-hypothermic," Groszkiewicz said. Several ducks and geese were preening and fluffing their feathers Thursday evening, trying to clean them selves. Larry Lowenskon, DEQ regional engineer, said the birds didn’t even cross the water for their food Thursday. Lowenskon said the DEQ “Is in vestigating the source of the click.” He said his office did not attribute the oil to a diesel truck that slid into the Milirace EWednesday morning, but declined to comment on the suspected source. Employees from Crowley Environmental Services were already at work, trying to remove the oil from the water’s surface. They used a pump and hose to wash the oil down to “curtains,” floating on the surf ace, that trap and hold the oil. Lowenskon said they hope to remove the oil from the Milirace, with successive curtains, before it branches into the Willamette. dailf emerald \J An Independent Newspaper Students are reminded that this is the final dav to register and pay tuition at the Cashier Office in Oregon Hail Vol. 79, No. 83 Eugene, Oregon 97403 Friday, January 20. 1978 Tattoo artist Under-skin renderings pay his bills By ANNA HOYT Of the Emerald Ship masts appear from his open neck shirt beneath the mass of hair that joins 18 tat toos to cover a major percen tage of his body. On his arms, eagles and spades blend around a naked, tassled lady as a snake slithers up his wrist. He calls himself Ink and Nee dles and considers his body a work of art. Ed Eaton has been tattooing for more than four years. His body is his own favorite sub ject and he’s running out of canvas. Some of Eaton's tat toos were done by the de Vinci’s of the tattooing set. He is very proud to posess sam ples of their work, even though he had to shave his chest to display them. His wife doesn't seem to mind the walking mural she lives with. “It's his body, ’’ she says. Eaton ’s tattoo parlor is a din ing room in his Springfield apartment. At first glance, the walls seem to be covered with wallpaper, but a closer look reveals a thousand tattoo prints offered to his customers. Designs range from nude ladies, pot leaves, skull and daggers, to Snoopy, Porky Pig and a door hinge. If his cus tomers aren't satisfied with any of his, he ’s willing to try another design in any size, shape or color. Prices range from a few dol lars to a few hundred dollars, based on the complexity of the design and the time spent creating it. Eaton prints several kinds of tattoos. "Western" tattoos ap pear in most of the world. Oriental tattoos, which appear mostly in the Far East, are more elaborate and some cover the entire top half of the body to appear as a shirt. Initially, Eaton requires his customer to sign a release re moving him from any liability once the tattoo has been com pleted. The State of Oregon places no regulations on tat tooists, but Eaton likes to play it safe. “/ won 't do tattoos on people who are drunk, on drugs or otherwise not in their right minds," he says. Tattoos can only be removed surgically. Even when removed, they leave a deep scar. Eaton does not feel the pro cess is painful. “It’s all a mind trip; if you think that it’s going to hurt, it probably will." Tattooing does not burn the skin as some people may be lieve. Instead, the tattoist punctures the skin with a machine, after a stencil has Photos by Dennis Hickok blackened an outline on the skin. This outline gives the tat tooist a guide to work by. He then inserts an organic pig ment into the skin. Once the tattoo is done, Eaton says it requires care similar to a severe cut. The new tattoo must be kept clean and protected from the sun, pressure from a shower head and contact with salt water. Without proper care, the print may become blotchy or may lose its color, says Eaton. Eaton does corrective tatto oing when tattoos become in fected or are done in a "home-spun" fashion, such as the needle and thread method, which Eaton says is very dangerous. Cosmetic tatto oing is usually done in a hospi tal to repair damage suffered by victims of car accidents and war. Facial damage can be camouflaged by inserting piqment into damaged skin, giving it a more ruddy color. Tattooing may also be used to replace a lost eyebrow. Eaton, however, doesn't do cosmetic tattooing. Historically, studies have shown that tattoos have been around since the beginning of civilization. There is no evi dence that cavemen wore tat toos, however, they have been discovered as early as 200 B.C. The practice died down in the Middle Ages due partially to religious taboos in the Old Testament: “Thou shalt not worship a graven tattoo. Some monks may have had Christ tattooed on their chests, but this is unverified. Apparently, tattooing has permeated all cultures. An Es kimo once claimed the blue lines on his wife's face were there so he could recognize her. “Otherwise, they (women) run among one another like beasts,” said the Eskimo. With the evolution of equip ment, tattoos have gone from a simple sketch or design to elaborate works of art.
