Saturday, 28 July 2007

maybe Austin Powers looks like me

I was going to talk about moving house -- nothing too brilliant, no new insights, but there's still lots to say as you strike the old set and get ready to put on your show from a new theater -- but I just caught sight of myself in the bathroom mirror as I brushed my teeth and considered shaving, and was mesmerised by the fact that I look like someone else.

I guess we spend our lives looking like other people. It's one of the reasons why it's so hard to hang onto an identity. As babies, we look like boxers, or monkeys, or Winston Churchill (those are the three basic baby types, though I did see one newborn recently who looked exactly like a Pouting Buddha). Later on we come to resemble TV stars or politicians or figures in art (a good friend is the spitting image of Parmagianino's long-necked Madonna -- except for her neck, which is normal length). As a high-school student I looked a lot like Austin Powers (true -- there's a picture). I could have used some of his mojo then, but of course the movies were still to come, and no one knew.

Or sometimes you'll remind someone of a friend from back home. I get that a lot: a stranger will stop me on the street, or come up to me at a party and stare. Hey! Did you know that you look exactly like Irwin Michaels? Hey, Stephanie, come here and look at this guy. Doesn't he look like Irwin? Hey, you ever been to Beamsville? These conversations can go on a long time as I explain that, no, sorry, I am not related to their friend, though, yes, I suppose it is theoretically possible that my mother or grandmother could have had a secret Beamsville boyfriend named Michaels ... I figure I must have one of those lowest-common-denominator faces, looks like a lot of people.

I do not resemble Austin Powers today. I'm aiming higher. With a case of monumental bedhead, the image is almost perfect. I am the Sun King, in those pictures where his hair shoots out like rays of the sun. Now, if only I had a bunch of people running around to dress me. Unfortunately, I do not even have a change of pants, since my dresser is at the new place and I am here. I'm moving, see, and it makes for some life complications. I'll tell you about them sometime.


Marilyn said...

What if people had no choice about moving? A moving truck showed up at your door, and no matter what you were doing: taking a shower,
entertaining guests, you had to
stop, pack your stuff and move.

Ashleigh said...

As long as you had a napsack that grew oranges I think you'd be alright....

Richard Scrimger said...

You girls are talking crazy here. you've obviously been inspired by a lunatic. RS