Tosh's Journal: August 16, 2023
I look like Jean Cocteau and Peter Sellers, and Me, a little bit.
When I worked at Book Soup for what seems like decades, the owner Glenn Goldman had a Berenice Abbott framed photograph of the French artist and poet Jean Cocteau pointing a gun toward the camera. Taken in 1926, the birth year of my father, Wallace Berman. My dad always had a photo of Cocteau somewhere in plain sight in his work area or studio space. He was a fan of his work, so I was very much raised in the presence of Cocteau throughout my childhood and teenage years. At Book Soup, many customers and, at times, fellow employees would comment on the portrait of me by the store entrance. At first, I thought they were joking with me, but it became apparent and I’m always the last to know that I look very much like Cocteau in this specific image.
As time passed, I told various people that is a portrait of me, and therefore many people thought I owned Book Soup. What other reason is possible except that I must be the owner? At first, I told all who asked that I was not the owner, nor was that a photo of me, and the owner was Glenn Goldman. But people were set to think that I was the owner and that Cocteau was me. After a while, the saying print the legend became easier for me to deal with, so I owned Book Soup. It got sticky when customers came up to me to complain about another employee at the store, thinking that I was the owner. They were shocked and upset that I refused to do anything because the reality was that I had no power over that employee; in fact, he was my manager, and, two, we were friends. I never rat against a friend.
People started commenting that I resembled the British actor Peter Sellers as I got older. Strangers would come up to me and immediately tell me I looked like Sellers. Honestly, it is nice to be compared to a figure one admires, and I’m a fan of Sellers’ work; I have several of his albums on vinyl, including his work with The Goons. But the comments never stopped. People would stop me in supermarkets, on the street, and at social gatherings. I have been told that I even do Peter Sellers’ physical things, such as his voice. This is ironic because Sellers often said he didn’t know his natural voice. Sellers were known to be depressive and lacked a core or a personality, and therefore, I’m taking on a role of a man who, in essence, didn’t exist.
I don’t have a clear concept of who I am. It’s a bit of a mystery to me. I’m not disconnected from myself, but when I walk by a window reflection or a mirror, I think, “Who in the hell is that? And I wonder if other people feel the same. So, many people take selfies, and I’m not sure why that is the case. When I take a picture of myself, I do it to see if I recognize that guy. I try to look at myself objectively. Do I look fat? Is that presence or image of me? And, of course, the ego or this endless fascination with one’s identity is absurd and just plain stupid. But still, it is a journey of sorts, and I guess I’m still trying to figure out my role in this trip into the unknown.
Bit of a St Germain!
You're the perfect one to be Tosh. Nobody else can do it, so you might as well.