that's the trouble with artists - they're all me, me, me! self-obsessed! not all, I know but I know a few - you know the type, thinking they're on this planet a the sole object of attention & adoration from everyone else because they're:
special
geniuses
unique
talented
etc
me, me, me - someone spoke of doppelganger's in the office yesterday; my cue to tell my doppelganger stories, which were greatly enhanced by recent events...
"You're out, then." said the copper, accompanied by another, standing in front of me in Market Square, Aylesbury, 1978.
"Eh?"
"How long have you been out?"
"I'm on my lunch break."
They both smile that who-are-you-kidding? smile. It took me about 15mins to convince them that I wasn't an ex-con & even then, as they got back in their car, I don't think they believed me. and coppers are supposed to be good at recognising faces, aren't they? so my criminal double must look at lot like me. I wonder if he still does.
20 years later I'm walking down our Camden street one night when a car stops on the other side of the road & out bundle three men, one of them stepping smartly in my direction - I freeze - he gets to within a few yards having pulled out his ID & said "Police!" before stopping - "Sorry, we thought you were someone else." They get back in the car. I walk on, heart pounding. had my criminal double from Aylesbury moved to London?
Last week on holiday in Llandudno, Wales, whilst standing around wondering which direction to go a couple of women drinking outside a bar nearby approach - one says with a smile "Did you used to be a photographer?"
I laugh. "No."
She looks at me intently, laughs, says something about how I look like a photographer they knew & goes away.
The next day, in the West Beach cafe, one of the workers comes up to our table and asks me: "Are you Paul's father?"
!!??
I crack some feeble joke about disowning him, then try to convey how weird this is for me after the previous day's event & she says "Oh, you just look like you could be his father".
!!!!????
So there you have it. Actual incidents where I've been mistaken for a criminal & a photographer, along with someone's idea that I might be a boy's father!
Look, I'm me, OK?
Ha! I sympathise. Once, at Cambridge Folk Festival, it took me ages to shake off a guy who was convinced I was Paul, and that he knew me when I played bass in a bluegrass band. Left me wondering about the Paul in question, and whether we shared similarities other than the physical.
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