Even on a good day, my identity issues are doubtful. Throughout my life, I have been told that I resembled someone else. And I was often mistaken by even friends of that ‘other’ person. I had a close friend where people commented how much we looked alike, and it was always a subject matter that people loved to talk about in front of us. We both hated it when people brought up that subject matter. The idea that one of us is imitating the other or consciously taking on the role of their friend is disconcerting. I have known identical twins who claim they don’t look alike. They refuse to acknowledge the thought that they have the same appearance.
These days it is mostly famous people, and it seems to run in patterns. Some years ago, during Robert DeNiro’s era of Taxi Driver and New York, New York, many thought I looked like the actor. Even a well-known actress approached me in a beauty salon, thinking I was DeNiro and she knew him. It was strange because she came to me and started talking, thinking I was “Bobby,” when I told her she had got the wrong fellow, I could see she didn’t believe me at first. One other time I was at the Whisky-a-Go-Go on the Sunset Strip, seeing The Screamers/The Weirdos, I heard people behind me saying DeNiro is here. I looked around the room to see if I could see him, but then realized they were talking about me.
I have been consistently compared to the late actor Peter Sellers for the past twenty years. This is amusing because I like Sellers’ work, but now I realize that when people see me, they think of Peter Sellers rather than Tosh. Even old friends have compared me to the late actor, and over time I can feel my identity being compromised or made less important. The irony is that it has been reported that Sellers had no personality beyond his characters for the screen. Only in acting could he react to others in what one can say is normal communication between people. The truth is, I can identify with Sellers’ situation because I can only express myself through my writing. Sitting down and verbalizing my day to someone across the table is difficult for me to do. I don’t understand why?
I know that writing allows me to share my feelings and thoughts articulately. Maybe it has something to do with what Cocteau wrote: Asking an artist to talk about his work is like asking a plant to discuss horticulture. To ask how I feel would take countless amounts of time; only when one is in front of their notebook or computer screen can they normally take the time to meditate on that issue.
Also I used to get the Robby Benson comparison but never mistaken for him. Crazy
Sid Caesar was the same as Sellers. Once when SC was accepting an award he was at a loss for words and was stammering. Then Mel Brooks from the audience yells out “do your German voice” and he came to life in his fake German accent. Of course everyone loved it. Heard this on one of Gilbert Gottfried‘s Amazing Colossal podcast.