Coincidentally (like a week later), I received a new passport in the mail. This made me wonder about my first passport (now twenty years old) and so I dug it out, opened it up and thought: wow, I’m hot. Then, just for interest sake I decided to place my old passport next to my new passport and marvel at how my hotness has evolved.
Here’s the thought process that ensued. Then. Now. Then? Now? THEN! NOW! WHAT?!
I’ll explain it another way: you know when you are outside and its late and completely black and maybe you’re taking the garbage out or whatever and even though you know better you suddenly feel like someone is watching you and then that chill runs down your body like someone just threw cold water on you? You know that feeling? Yeah? Well this felt more alarming. Comparing my passports can only be described one way: stupefying. Seriously. Why?
That guy is not me. And coincidentally, I am not him. But I have his memories! And he has mine! How is that possible? Seriously, I look at that guy and he has a different chin, a different shaped-head, different eyes, different eyebrows, his ears are smaller; he even has an Adam’s apple! Oddly enough, we still have one thing in common: our nostrils. Seriously. That’s it. Complete strangers who share nostrils.
Comparing those photos was like suddenly getting a phone call from a strange doctor who must confess before he dies that he switched you at birth with another baby except he’s not really a doctor; he’s actually a time traveller and you weren’t a baby; instead you were in your twenties. Okay. That doesn’t make sense but HOW IS IT POSSIBLE that everything about me has changed in twenty years, everything except my nostrils?!
Since I am not prepared to face the reality of my complete transformation from heartthrob to mall cop, I have another theory. It’s just like that new movie Avatar. I think I’m an avatar. Think about it. The young studly version of me is sitting around a really big screen TV right now with his buddies and they are all controlling old dude versions of themselves (mine is forcing me to write stupid things in the newspaper) and they are laughing like maniacs.
Wait a minute. That can’t be it. Young guys wouldn’t waste their time sitting around doing that. Um, maybe I was abducted? Maybe it was leprechauns? Or maybe....