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26 May 2016

That old doppelgänger of mine

BBpic350rYou would agree, I suppose, that when alternate universes collide, it should be duly noted.

The incident I'm entering into the public record occurred May 20, 2016 from about 9:30 p.m. to 10:15 p.m. Central Daylight Time.


I should point out that I have long pondered the possibility that we are not alone, that there exists another us, if you will, out there.  Perhaps on this planet; perhaps coming to and going from our planet at will; and probably at least in an alternate universe. 

In dreams and in incidents I've often thought of incorporating into a screenplay or novel, my family is in our car, usually returning to our neighborhood, when an identical family in an identical car pulls up directly behind.

Can you imagine?  Doppelgängers in a Honda Accord.

The incident that dropped our jaws in disbelief on May 20, however, revealed itself as the Texas Rangers were battling the Houston Astros at Minute Maid Park in Houston. 

I'm a devout Texas Rangers fan, and this was a nail-biter game that the visiting Rangers eventually won 2-1.  I have been known to let my eyes wander to see who's in the high-dollar seats right behind home plate, especially during games with lopsided scores one way or another.

That used to especially be fun when the Rangers and Astros were playing at Minute Maid Park and former President George H.W. Bush and wife Barbara were occupying those plush Diamond Club seats.  They obviously really enjoyed themselves.  Barbara, it seems, seriously knows how to snack, which I can appreciate.


Glancing beyond the action at the plate is not as much fun these days.  More often than not, all you see is someone with head bowed worshiping their cell phone or others so proud of the best seats in the house that they spend all their time waving at family and friends seeing them on TV.

On May 20, however, it was all about the pitcher's duel that was sure to keep us on the edge of our seats until the final pitch.

Then the batter backed out of the batter's box to rub some stickum on his bat and I saw Him.


Actually, I saw me.  Not just someone who looked like me, but me.  More specifically my doppelgänger, which Merriam-Webster describes as "a ghost that looks like a living person."  In this case, I think The Free Dictionary captures the situation better:  "A ghostly double of a living person, especially one that haunts its fleshly counterpart."

It was funny at first.  My wife Suellen and I laughed, then laughed some more.  Although it may be difficult to fully appreciate the striking, clone-like resemblance in a fuzzy photograph, in real time, as the game played out in front of Him, it became less funny to the point of eerie what-ifness.

I never got up to see if there were two identical Honda Accords in the driveway, but I wanted to.  Then I realized that of course there couldn't be duplicate cars at our house.  The other one was in the Minute Maid Park parking lot (for an inflated price tag of 50 bucks, from what I've been told).

To sum up:

Here's what I know about Him

  • He must come from an alternate universe because he's an Astros fan, for one thing, and he can afford to pay the highest prices in the ballpark, for another.
  • He dresses much better than me.
  • When the Astros ultimately lost the game, he threw his hands up in disgust and appeared to mouth the words, "Ah, man!"  That's something I've done and seen in the mirror a thousand times.

Here's what I know about me

  • Not much, really.
  • And what I do know is beginning to frighten me a little.


There is a question that continues to surface in my thoughts. Who am I when no one is around? I have discovered it is a difficult question to answer. I'm still working on it.


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