About Face

I recently interviewed someone who looked an awful lot like Angelina Jolie. She wasn’t a dead ringer but there was more than a hint of the same bone structure. Same eyes. Same lips. Excuse while I take a cold shower.

Being the consummate professional I tried to disassociate the resemblance from the person standing before me and pay very close attention to what it was she had to say. I tried. But there was this idiotic voice deep within my brain..perhaps in the ever-diminishing region that still controls the meagre flow of testosterone…that kept screaming at me , ‘Wow. Wow. Wow. Does she ever look like Angelina Jolie!’ Shut up! I fought it for all it was worth but it was like trying to quiet a cranky kid on an airplane.

I tried to get what I thought was the obvious out of the way before anything got out of hand and I said to her , ‘I’m sure you know whom you resemble‘. But she was coy. If you look like Angelina Jolie, how could you be otherwise? You can’t say, ‘Yes, I know I am somewhat similar to one of the world’s most beautiful and alluring women‘. It lacks dignity, not to mention modesty. So she threw the question to one of her co-workers who immediately confirmed my reaction by identifying Mr. Pitt’s muse as the doppelgänger in question.

I talked to a guy in Whistler recently who looked a lot like a bearded Kevin Bacon. He didn’t see it. That’s not quite the same compliment, I suppose, as having the hallmarks of one of People magazine’s most beautiful humanoids. Maybe there’s a lot of guys who look like Kevin Bacon with a beard. I dunno.

I don’t really look like anyone. I keep waiting for it to happen. Couldn’t I step out of the shower one morning, throw on a robe, towel off my hair, glance at the mirror and say..’Hey..Clooney!’?

No, I guess not. Each and every day I just look more like my Dad.

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