Wednesday, May 28, 2008


I have sort of a suspicion that I am the product of a government science experiment. Probably Ted Elden and the truth seekers have a book about it somewhere. Pretty obviously, I'm a clone. I am forever being told I remind someone of someone else. Everybody has a friend from the old neighborhood, from high school or college I remind them of... They have a relative (who is always distant) who looks just like me. Maybe it's somebody they used to work with or their wife used to work with, but I'm everywhere. There's probably a factory somewhere, maybe in New Mexico, under one of the mesas. They release a couple of new models every year. For all I know, I'm not even the original --actually, I'd bet on it.

Seriously, though, I have one of those faces. I blend. It has always been this way.

I went to Daytona Beach for Spring Break one year when I was still in college. As could be expected, we spent an afternoon shopping for crap to take back. We went into some Cuban-owned tourist shop. I was looking at a nice selection of ponchos, along with a couple of friends and the owner of the place, walked up to me, clapped me on the back, shook my hand and told me how good it was to see me again. I smiled, shook his hand and tried to not look stunned.

He gave me half off on whatever I bought.

My friends looked at me and asked me, "who was that guy?"

I had no idea. I bought a poncho from him, however, but I was going to do that anyway.

The latest edition to my ever growing body of stories about how I was most likely part of a cloning project in the late 60s comes from my friend Shelly. Shelly's daughter and my son, Emmett, go to the same daycare. She and her daughter were at Graziano's last week when Shelly spotted someone who looked a lot like me, having lunch with a 10 year-old, who was probably the man's son. Shelly says the resemblance was remarkable, but she was pretty sure it wasn't me. At least, she was sure enough not to come over and strike up a conversation.

Her daughter, however, wasn't convinced. As Shelly and her daughter were leaving, she said, "Emmett's dad!"

It's just a little thing, but I'm hoping the new models of me come with the kung fu grip and the bionic eye thing. Both could come in handy.

1 comment:

Rick Lee said...

I also get that stuff a lot. Only less now that I'm getting older. It used to be that I could walk into a 7-11 in some town that I'd never been to and sure-as-anything the clerk would claim to know me from high school. I have always chalked it up to "average white guy looks". I am extremely average looking.