MY DOPPELGANGER ?!

DOPPELGANGER, was first coined by German author, Jean Paul, in 1796, and translates into English as “double walker” and/or “double goer.” When I first heard the term, I was listening to Canadian writer, Eli Mandel, as he was doing a poetry reading at Balfour Collegiate, Regina, SK in the ‘70s. At that reading, Eli expressed that he saw his doppelganger while on a walk one day, strolling through a city park, and walking near a footbridge. There, Eli noticed his doppelganger leaning over the guard rail and looking straight at him. Eli stated that that was a moment that stopped him. They waved to one another, and then each went along his way. 

“Meeting one’s doppelganger meant imminent death according to my Jewish mythos,” Eli said to us. However, this proved to be not true, at least not for Eli, who passed away in 1992, more than 20 years after a brush with his “double walker.” (Whether it proved true or not for his doppelganger, we will never know.}

Not-so-strangely, as I have just finished watching the series, “1883,” I cannot help but notice one of the main actors, ISABEL MAY,

ISABEL MAY ("1883")

looks a lot like JENNIFER LAWRENCE of “Hunger Games” fame.

JENNIFER LAWRENCE ("HUNGER GAMES")

ISABEL & JENNIFER? JENNIFER & ISABEL?

But lots of people look alike. Unrelated people can share uncanny resemblances, and according to science, people who look similar are also similar genetically. If this is true, then lots of celebrities share lots of genes, especially those that are responsible for facial features.

WILL FERRELL & CHAD SMITH

LINDA EVANELISTA & MILLA JOVOVICH

MATT DAMON & JESSE PLEMONS

A YOUNG BRAD PITT 

A YOUNG ROBERT REDFORD

But Eli Mandel was correct. Not just Jewish folklore presents doppelganger encounters as being menacing and creepy. Gothic horror novels with a doppelganger theme have been around for some time. The American writer, Edgar Allen Poe, wrote about doppelgangers in his William Wilson novel in 1839. In 1846 the Russian novelist, Fyodor Dostoyevsky wrote, The Double, a horror novel having a doppelganger theme. Another American, Mark Twain, wrote about doppelgangers in The Prince and the Pauper in 1881. And, Despair, another doppelganger story, was written by the Russian American, Vladimir Nabokov in 1934.

In movies, too, there have been doppelgangers. I will just mention five, that I found to be the best: “Dead Ringers” (1988), “The Dark Half” (1993), “Enemy” (2013), “Double” (2013), and “Us” (2019). 

ENEMY

THE DOUBLE

Apparently, the odds of encountering one’s doppelganger are extremely low, with seven billion people on the planet, there is a one in 135 chance that a single pair of doppelgangers exist. 

Dear reader, please take another look at the picture atop this blog post. This is not me. This guy looks like me, but he’s not me. Just by happenchance, this picture jumped out at me while I was scrolling through my Instagram. If looks could kill, this guy is my doppelganger. He looks to be a dead ringer, does he not? Everyone that I have shown this picture to says that I look exactly like that guy on the right, and the younger version of that guy on the left looks exactly like my youngest son! The caption reads that the first picture was taken in Woodstock, and the second picture taken 50 years later. Had I gone to Woodstock in 1969, I might have met him and might have died shortly after!  But I did not go to Woodstock and …

For me, “doppelganger” need not be a pejorative term. Should I ever meet this doppelganger of mine, I really doubt there would be any danger, drama maybe, but not danger.

Now for my public appeal:

If anyone knows or recognizes my doppelganger whose picture appears in this blog post, please have him contact me. Not pretending to be a private investigator on this matter, but rather sideloading this burden onto my readers who are willing to do some Facebook friend farming for me, we can dangerously assume just two facts: 

My doppelganger is an American and my doppelganger went to Woodstock August 15th, or 16th, or 17th, or 18th in 1969. 

And that’s all I’ve got, folks!

IN MY FAVORITE GUITAR SHOPPE

CARL JUNG AND MY DISCOVERY: I AM A 73-YEAR-OLD ADOLESCENT!

 

SELF-PORTRAIT

Age is just a number.  Hmmm. This wisdom in this idiom may be true, but my age of 73 is a real number. And that number, 73, signals that I am in the winter of my life. According to the statistics, males in my area of the world have a longevity of 78 years.

Yikes!

(So far, I have managed not to think of that number much, unless of course I am writing about it as I am doing right now.)

There must be loads of others like me, who do not seem to pay that much attention to that number designating their age. In just a Google away I can read about an American folk artist, Grandma Moses, who began a prolific painting career at 78. In 2006, one of her paintings, SUGARING OFF, sold for 1.36 million dollars.

SUGARING OFF

I can also read about British-American writer, Harry Bernstein, whose wrote his first novel and bestseller, The Invisible Wall, at 96.

THE INVISIBLE WALL

In that same Google, I am looking at Irish race car driver, Rosemary Smith, at 79 years of age drove a Formula 1 race car.

ROSEMARY SMITH

And there is this Polish American, Leonid Hurwicz, who won a Nobel Prize in Economics at 90.

LEONID HURWICZ

There is the Japanese skier and alpinist, Yuichiro Miura, who reached the top of Mount Everest when he was 80.

YUICHIRO MIURA

Ha! A long-time favorite character of mine, Captain Kirk, (AKA William Shatner), rocketed into real space at 91 years of age!

CAPTAIN KIRK (AKA WILLIAM SHATNER)

These folks are aged, yet proof that people of my age and older, in the winter of their lives, can still take the time to seek and explore new frontiers, can still discover and embrace new lifestyles, and boldly go to where they have never gone before.

Considered a meshuggener by some of my acquaintances, especially those who have been retired for several years, I am oftentimes mocked because I am still working. Who could be so foolish or crazy as me to still be hiking and diving and running and lifting and skiing (and soon to be surfing) and gigging?!

Yikes again!

There I was, just minding my own business, next thing I knew I was the same age as old people! (Admittedly, with some glee or disgusting schadenfreude, age has seemed to emasculate these same people who mock me.)

CARL JUNG stated, “The world will ask who you are and if you don’t know, the world will tell you.”

Well the world has been telling me who I am for years. Graduating from high school I had no clue who I wanted to be. Because I had worked on telephone line construction in summers during high school, it was a logical for me to sign on with Saskatchewan Telephones, as a pole climber. After that, it was not much of a stretch to go from pole climber to pipe-liner. Working poles or pipes were both of a similar culture, that being lots of guys, lots of beers, lots of hotels or workcamps.

During high school, the only subject I enjoyed was English. So, when my enthusiasm for work camps waned, I registered for university as an English Literature student, and then graduating to become a high school English teacher was a dream come true (at the time)!

And then as a graduate student in Psychology to land a gig as a high school guidance counsellor was really Nietzsche Pietzsche. I thought I had arrived. Thinking I was Smartre than Sartre, upon receiving my master’s degree, I applied and landed the job of a sessional lecturer in Psychology at our local university. On my academic cake, this icing was sweet and thick and delicious!

Yes. All these mentioned labor and academic jobs were jobs what the world was telling me to do. I chose them because they were the most convenient, the most practical, and as I was raising children, the most pragmatic choices for the times. All these jobs I quite liked, and no matter the politics and accountability, they were easy to tolerate. Hmmm. Reading CARL JUNG and reflecting on this, they were fun until they weren’t.  

CARL JUNG also stated, “The privilege of a lifetime is to become who you really are.”

Of all the jobs I ever worked, there was always the one that I really loved and thought lots about. That was when I was a swimming instructor. I became a credentialed swimming instructor while attending university. Being listed as an English major with a Physical Education minor, swimming became a significant part of my program. I took Swimming 110 (Learning to Swim), Swimming 210 (Bronze Medallion), and Swimming 310 (Swimming Instructor), and during which times I also took my Award of Merit, and my Scuba Bronze Medallion). I also joined the university dive team. Swimming, swimming, and more swimming.  I loved it became an all-year-round swimming instructor, employed part-time at the YMCA.

But because I could not make enough money to raise a family the way I wanted to on a swimming salary, I still toiled in academia. It is only as of late, and not-so-strangely at 73 years of age, I have given myself a second chance to closely replicate those past years of being a swimming instructor. The past couple of winters I have been employed as a part-time ski instructor.

In skiing there is a saying: Where you are is where it’s at. I am not in the mountains but skiing at the MISSION RIDGE SKI RESORT, a prairie escarpment in the beautiful Qu’Appelle Valley is the next best thing.

I am still employed full-time, having a continuing contract working with young offenders in the public-school system. I still have my private hypnotherapy practice my in downtown Regina, SK. And though the royalty payments are slow and low, I am still writing and still knowing that my soon-to-be bestseller is just one influential reader away.

This is where I’m at and this is who I really am – a 73-year-old adolescent!

(Hmmm. Perhaps a 73-year-old emerging adult would be the better psychological comparison!)

MY ST. PADDY'S DAY GIG AT THE BUSHWAKKER BREWPUB

*Tomorrow is the first day of Spring -- the start of the outdoor BUSKING for 2025!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dear Donald ...

 

Dear Donald,

From the beaches of Normandy to the mountains of the Korean peninsula, from the fields of Flanders to the streets of Kandahar, we have fought and died alongside you during your darkest hours. We were always there, standing with you.

During the Iran hostage crisis, when a group of Iranian students stormed the U.S. Embassy in Tehran and held 52 Americans hostage, six American diplomats escaped and sought refuge at the Canadian embassy, leading to a joint CIA-Canadian operation known as the Canadian Caper to smuggle them out of Iran using Canadian passports and a film crew cover story. 

During the summer of 2005, when Hurricane Katrina ravaged your great city of New Orleans, or mere weeks ago when we sent water bombers to tackle the wildfires in California, we were there for you.

During the day, the world stood still, September 11, 2001, when we provided refuge to stranded passengers and planes. We were always there, standing with you, grieving with you.

Together, we have built the most successful economic, military and security partnership the world has ever seen. A relationship that has been the envy of the world.

As President John F. Kennedy said many years ago, Geography has made us neighbours. History has made us friends; economics has made us partners and necessity has made us allies.

Donald, if you want to usher in a new golden age for the United States, the better path is to partner with Canada, not to punish us.

Yours truly,

Neil

P.S. These are not my words – these are the last words to you (in summary) from my Prime Minister, Justin Trudeau.

P.P.S. These are my words: I love your Kentucky Bourbon, but I’ll not drink another dram of it until you have decided that CANADA is your friend, not your enemy.