I am not who I think I am. It's weird realizing that what's been in your head for last two years isn't really what's in your head. It's in someone else's head. You just get a glimpse of it. You think you are an original. You believe what your mother told you. You. Are. Unique.
But what if they lied. Or what if you didn't hear them right? What if they really meant to say: You. Are. Not. Unique.
This weekend I found out that I am a clone. I am not who I thought I am.
So let me re-introduce myself. Hi. My name is Scott, version 2.0. New and improved with all the upgrades required of a loyal friend. I know. This is going to take some getting used to.
This weekend Papa Scrum invited me to his "Man Weekend". It is in Iowa. Yup, rip roaring partyville Iowa. I told my niece I was going to Iowa this weekend. She said she never heard of it.
I thought this was great, a true milestone in a friendship between two dudes. It's one step above asking me to move him (I have) and one step below asking me to hide a body for him (I can't find a good cave.) I love Papa Scrum. He's the bestest. Of course I wanted to go to Iowa to have a man weekend. Pretty soon we would be wife swapping and sharing recipes for a good barbecue sauce.
So we went (plenty of blogs about this later.) and drove 5 hours from Kansas to an Iowan (that's a real word, at least Iowans tell me it is) campground. We picked up one of Papa Scrum's other buddies and checked in at the campsite. Things went well. I had a great time.
And I met Scott, the original.
Scott, or as they call him: Pony, was Papa Scrum's best friend and best man at his wedding. He's a good guy and I guess it is only natural because I am him. Only I didn't realize it at first.
I think that Papa Scrum forgot that I was there at first. After all, he did not try to hide the secret at all. You would think that they would not like to introduce me to my father clone. Surely that would bust some sort of space/time continuum rule and all matter as we know it would implode. Or maybe he thought that I wasn't that bright which if that is the case then I shall be offended on my own behalf as well as Scott, the original.
Things were going well at first. We were all talking, laughing and forgetting that doppelganger was in the house. Pretty soon some of the talked turned to politics. Turns out, Scott the Origanal has a liberal leaning attitude. I was refreshed to hear this because you don't find many of us in the Midwest. I stated to like him more and more. A man that believes that giving someone a helping hand is the American duty. Rock on. It's always great when you find something in common with someone else.
Scott also has done a lot of work with Autistic and special needs children. Awesome. As an investigator for the state of Texas, this was one of my specialties. In my head I was already planning to share some war stories and a hug.
Scott is a teacher.
I started out as a teacher.
His first name starts with a S.
My first name starts with a S.
Scott likes boobies.
Hell, I like boobies.
That's when I realized it. That's when the truth hit me like a backhand from a pimp. Right in the face with a little bit of chicken juice on it. I am Scott's clone,a devious plan set forth by Papa Scrum himself. I am the new and improved version of Scott and all for the puppet master's pleasure.
Here is what I figure happened. Papa Scrum and his best friend Scott were separated in a cruel twist of fate called life. Torn apart from each others loving embrace they spiraled to different parts of the country. Scott the original went to a small town in Iowa and Papa Scrum came to Missouri. Dejected and personally destroyed, Papa Scrum mourned the closeness of his friend. He probably drank a lot, perhaps dabbled in the occult and then did a lot of yard work.
But one day he had an idea. He would clone Scott. And he did. I am him. It all fits. It all makes sense. Do not doubt me. Let me ask you this: is it possible for a Conservative leaning Republican to have two Liberal friends? HA! I thought not! The laws of physics say that this is not possible and goes against all of natures laws. A conservative can only have one liberal friend and that's only so that they don't feel guilty. Any more than one and the sun goes dark and Haliburtan takes away your farm subsidy.
Motive? Why, he missed his best friend of course. Do not doubt the lengths to which male love will go. And so I was created, in Scott's image. In a way, he is my god. Now Papa Scrum has two identical friends that live in the two places he goes most often. He is taking a lot of trips to Iowa this summer. Now I know why. He never has to be without his friend.
Of course there are subtle differences between us and my orgianal DNA donor. He has more hair than me and yet lacks the rugged quality that drives women attractive. I suppose I got that triat on my own. He is also not as heavy as me which is the polite way of calling myself fat. Manners are everything. I suppose that some genetic mutations are to be expected from original to a copy, just as the whole fax machine argument goes. If Papa Scrum moves and the third me is created he will probably be a midget. He will live in California and go by the name of Steve.
Tonight I am home from man weekend. I am in my bed, either in Iowa or Missouri. It doesn't matter as I can be in two places at once now. We both kiss our wives goodnight and we both tuck our children into bed. Eventually we will both fall off to sleep and dream of lesbians that look like Zena the warrior princess. The week will began yet again and a normal routine will follow.
Papa Scrum will leave for Iowa again this next week. I will tell him to give us a call when he gets there. We will be waiting. Like always.