I am forever getting mistaken for someone else.  When people realize I’m not so-and-so or such-and-such, I quickly say, “No problem.  I guess I have one of those faces.”

For the most part, I get confused for relatives, co-workers, famous people and/or college acquaintances.  I must have a lot of evil twins out there.  Either that or every one and their brother looks like me.

The most ridiculous case of mistaken identity I get (and it happens quite a bit) is when I’m mistaken for … wait for it … David Caruso.  Not only do I look NOTHING like the man, but he’s got to be, what, 55 years old?  But, sure enough, when people say, “Do you know that you look like …” I can usually beat them to the punch and say David Caruso.

The other guy I’m constantly mistaken for is comedian Jim Gaffigan.  (Yes, the guy who does a 14-minute riff on “Hot Pockets”.)  When his DVD came out, it looked like someone had put my picture squarely on the cover.  I can see where I might resemble Gaffigan, but I’m still scratching my head over Caruso.

If I’m walking through the mall (or any other public place for that matter) people will always say hello to me.  Or they’ll stop and want to talk to me for no apparent reason.  If I’m with someone, they won’t even look at that other person.  The eye contact and salutations are always directed my way.  I never noticed it until a friend of mine pointed it out.  After my fourth “hello” of the day, he said, “How many people do you know around here?”  I commented I didn’t know anyone.   He demanded to know why unfamiliar people were saying hello to me and not him.  That was my little lightbulb moment.  That was the day I realized I’m Mr. Approachable.  I put the Doody in Howdy.

Do I walk around with a smile on my face?  Do I look goofy enough to give off the vibe I want to chat?  Do I look THAT much like Brett Favre?  Whatever the case, I’m glad I’m an affable enough fellow that people want to converse.  When I become famous I’ll have to hire extra security to keep the never-ending legions of fans off my back.