Not long ago, a new colleague at the office told me that I reminded her of Dennis Miller. You know, old news anchor from Saturday Night Live who's now in movies and has his own show on HBO? The comic who's so witty and sarcastic and full of obscure pop-cultural references? Yeah, that guy.
She seemed to mean it in a good way, in case you're wondering, and I was surprised at how genuinely pleased it made me feel. I told her it was the nicest thing anyone had said to me in some time, and I meant it. It's been a long time since anyone told me that I reminded them of someone famous. I've missed it.
And isn't that a peculiar thing—that being told I remind someone of someone else is such a positive thing? I mean, don't we all want to be liked for who we are, and not be judged on the basis of comparison with someone else? Why do people find it so pleasing to be compared favorably with celebrities?
I think it's really pretty simple, and that there are a couple of elements to it. First, I think on some level we all recognize that telling someone they remind you of a celebrity is shorthand for enumerating the many positive characteristics they share with that person. We all know what characteristics celebrities have, at least outwardly, so it's an easy way to convey a great number of compliments without actually enumerating them one by one, which might be awkward.
For example, when I hear that I remind somone of Dennis Miller, what I really hear on a subliminal level is that I'm coming across as suave and dry and witty and intelligent and self-possessed and maybe a little sarcastic. And that's not to mention snappily dressed, bearded, and long- and dark- and curly-haired.
Now, whether all those things are things that my colleague meant, either consciously or subconsciously, they are the things I associate with Dennis Miller, and so I'm pleased to hear them. And that's not the only thing I hear. When I hear that I remind someone of a celebrity, there's the subtle implication that, since I share the traits that have made that person so well-known and successful, I have the potential to be just as successful.
It shouldn't be surprising, then, that comparing someone with a celebrity is such a surefire method for making them feel good. (Assuming you've chosen the right celebrity, that is. I mean, most right-thinking people aren't going to feel particularly honored if you tell them they remind you, say, of Rush Limbaugh.) And it shouldn't be surprising that most of us respond to it so well. Most all of us have within us a yearning to be widely recognized for the good things about us, and this plays right into that basic desire.
(I'm typing this with a cat curled up contentedly in my lap, eyes closed. I think his basic desire is to take a nap at the center of the universe.)
Like I said, it's been a good long time since anyone told me I reminded them of anyone famous, and I have to admit that I've kind of felt bad about that. I've thought back wistfully to the days when I was a skinny gawky kid two-thirds of my present weight, and folks like my girlfriend Katrina would tell me I reminded them of Timothy Hutton. (Katrina even went so far as to put "Debra Winger" for the return address on her letters when she wrote to me during my mission.) I remember the starry-eyed girls in the town of Brooks, Alberta, who had crushes on the close-cropped young missionary Elder Shunn because he looked just like a really bad photo of Kevin Bacon from the cover of one of their teen-idol mags. (And, of course, because young Mormon girls always get crushes on missionaries. I swear, I've never had so many women come on to me as when I was wearing that damn black nametag and couldn't do anything about it. It's not fair.)
Well, I'm a long way from being emaciated enough to remind anyone of Timothy Hutton anymore. It was just the other day that I was looking at a photo of myself with my friend Tim Bishop and his wife at an amusement park in Utah, taken in the first year or two after my mission. I looked at that narrow face, that pipestem of a neck, and despite the goofy mustache and the hair worn long in the back, I could see the resemblence to Timothy Hutton, I could see it, and I missed having people comment on it. I felt old and fat and unattractive.
But hey, now that I've matured somewhat, I remind someone of Dennis Miller! I'm still floating. It may be shallow of me, but that one's going to keep me going for weeks.
Now, who is it you remind me of?
