Being John Malkovich

Sometimes when catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I see my father. It's mostly the facial expressions. I've been told I look like my grandmother, and she thinks I look her son, my uncle. But there's a certain resemblance several folks have seen over the years which recently surfaced. I remind people of John Malkovich.

I don't think I look like anyone famous, and it's certainly not everyday I hear the sentiment from others. But when I have, the same name has been uttered. When I first heard the remark a decade ago, I told my mother about it. She was taken aback. If I remember correctly, she said he was creepy.

What's most fascinating is the diverse people and under the disparate circumstances I've heard it. A co-worker in Delaware. A friend in Juneau. And, just last month, a fellow VISTA in Chicago. Her explanation was the most thorough: My mannerisms, my speech, the way I look, all reminded her of Malkovich. "Not that that's a bad thing," she concluded.

I'm still not so sure. Before leaving Juneau, I saw Burn After Reading, a movie I really enjoyed. (My two companions had their own opinions.) My mind did wander a bit as I watched Malkovich, trying to pick up any hint of familiarity. I don't know. Maybe?