4th of July Adventures

Woke up late after a late evening of downloading a bunch of punk rock mp3s ripped from 7" records. Realized I didn't have milk or juice, so I had some dry cereal, a brown banana and coffee while watching Diff'rent Strokes until I realized there was a Twilight Zone marathon going on. Around noon, after I'd had a nap and a shower, I figured it was time to get my day started. And also realized that the movie GONZO, a documentary on Hunter S. Thompson opened today. I hiked the 2 miles or so to the theater. One of the hazards of being a pedestrian is confronting the homeless men. The first time or two usually passes without incident, but soon they recognize you and want to start up a friendship. Or at least a conversation or something that will generate some money, food, booze or drugs for them. There have been times when I've walked a block out of my way just to avoid them. After the movie (it's decent, but no need to see it in the theater), I had a heart-stopping lunch at Big Tomy's...chili cheeseburger, fries and pink lemonade. And then stop off at the video store. I think I'm in the home stretch...just a mile home, with maybe a detour to the grocery store to pick up milk, juice and bananas. I cross the street and a hispanic man comes towards me and says something vaguely in my direction. I brush it of with a nod of acknowledgment. As I continue my journey, I recall all the cases of mistaken identity I've had in my life.

Earliest would probably be people confusing me with my sister in elementary school. Once, my family was at an A&W with a bunch of other families after the parents had played volleyball. Up at the counter, they had a basket with those root beer barrel candies in it. Everyone had eaten and the kids were running around like maniacs. I went up and got a handful of the candy. A few minutes later, my sister went up to just get one. The lady behind the counter snapped at her, "You just got a whole handful!" At that time, we did look a lot alike. And that night we were both wearing our school t-shirts.

In college, I was talking to kids in my Spanish class. One girl says she remembers me and has met me before. She says I "live in Missouri Hall and am in the choir." I never lived in Missouri Hall. And I certainly can't sing. She refused to believe that it wasn't someone else that she had met.

On a trip to Cocoa Beach, FL, with a bunch of friends, we stayed in a condo owned by one of my friends. Most people in the complex were retirees. So the presence of 5 college guys was fairly obvious. One night, the guys had gotten ahold of some beer and decided it'd be fun to go down to the pool and go skinny dipping. This in the days before I drank. And still, the idea of going skinny dipping with other guys didn't appeal to me. The next day, we were packing up to leave. An older guy was there in the carport. He pulled me aside and says, "I saw you naked in my pool last night." I told him that he was mistaken and that he may have seen my friends, but it wasn't me. "Like hell it wasn't you," he said.

When I participated in Artomatic when I lived in DC, I had hung my art and was leaving the building. As I walked out, a guy was walking in. He asked me how stuff was going. I just thought he was being friendly. Then he started asking if "the cabaret was set up." I didn't know the first thing about it. At some point, he figures out that I'm not Mike. Or whoever it was that he thought I was. During that time, there was at least one other person who thought I was Mike. This doppleganger I did have the privilege of seeing. And I suppose I can see people who didn't know either of us well getting us confused.

Through the years, there's been a number of these events. And as I continue my journey, I start slipping into The Secret World of Walter Mitty. A cop car passes me. I get nervous. They circle around and I hear the "woop woop" of their siren. In an instant they have me cuffed. How do I respond? I'm innocent. But I have the right to remain silent. Truth will out, won't it? They've got the wrong guy. They'll search my pockets and find my sketchbook and my business cards. I'm an artist. They'll figure out that they have the wrong guy. Won't they? $30,000 bail?! A 3 minute phone call? Who do I call? How do I get out of this? They've wasted my whole weekend because they mistook my identity. And all I get is a "sorry?"

I made it to the grocery store. Managed to pick up some items, and make it home safe and sound.

Now who's that knocking on my door?