Exploring Self Identity

There’s been a lot of talk in the news lately about “self identification.” I’m an old guy and this is a new term so I was immediately suspicious that it was some kind of Dr. Phil psychobabble so I looked it up.  According to the trusty Merriam-Webster dictionary self identification is the “act of identifying yourself as a particular kind of person.” Oh…well that seems fair enough so I guess I’m on board with self identifying.

As a humorist and semi-professional observer of the human condition I often label other people with identities that seem to fit them. It only seems right that people can identify themselves anyway they want to. What does it really matter?  Most people, cameras and those damned lying mirrors see me as a short funny looking guy with a big nose and a humped back, I self identify as a ruggedly handsome world traveling adventurer; their misconception hasn’t bothered me much.

I know that there are lots of serious social issues connected to how people self identify…but I’ll leave that to serious people.  I’m more interested in the funny delusional ways we see ourselves. Last week a friend told me he self identified as a trans-financial, a rich man born in a poor man’s body. I know that’s insensitive and irreverent but I’m insensitive and irreverent so I thought it was funny as hell.

I’ve met guys who I’m pretty sure self identified as trans-matrimonial, single men in a married mans body. I’m just guessing but I suspect this is a huge demographic and I think it’s a shame the way people look down on the trans-matrimonial community. It’s very popular to bad mouth and punish the matrimonially confused but they’re just people and you shouldn’t judge them…just leave them alone…not that I really care… I’m just saying.

As often as not self identification has very little to do with reality. I know a guy who was in a garage band in high school and has never held a real job because he self identifies as a rock star…he had to pawn his guitar to put gas in his 1988 panel van, but he’s a rock star.

Jesse Ventura and Arnold Schwarzenegger self identified as serious thinking leaders and convinced enough people to vote them into governor’s mansions. It turns out that one of them was just an ego maniac, the other was just a maniac and both were bullshitting gasbags.

President Trump said that he, “always felt that I was in the military” because he went to a military type prep school. He actually said he received, “more training militarily than a lot of guys who go into the military.” As a guy who actually went into the military I can say, no…Mr. President you didn’t.

Much like the three weeks of training that mall security guards get (including the advanced tactical Segway driving course) doesn’t qualify them to be real law enforcement officers, dressing up in doorman uniforms and calling each other colonel doesn’t make you a soldier.

Coincidently, I once self identified as a spoiled rich bastard for about a week after I got a reenlistment bonus. I stayed in a “King Suite” in Caesar’s Palace for a weekend and lived large…I even used the mini-bar. But just like playing army in boarding school isn’t real military experience, acting rich for a weekend doesn’t make you a millionaire. Damn it.

I’ve also learned that most of us self identify differently at different stages of our lives. In the fourth grade I self identified as Snoopy (with a slightly larger nose) fighting the Red Baron. I even wore WWI flying ace goggles and a green scarf because I called myself the “Green Baron.”

Of course I outgrew that (they wouldn’t let me wear the goggles or green scarf in boot camp) and these days I self identify as Snoopy the writer. I’m actually sitting on a doghouse as I write this…it’s the only place I can think. When writer’s block hits me I write, “It was a dark and stormy night…” then wait for inspiration. Usually I write an uninspired column while I wait.

My mom told me that when I was five I believed that I was the only real person in the world.  She said I told her that when I wasn’t around other people deflated and were hung in closets until I came back. You could probably find several people willing to testify that I haven’t changed much since then but that’s just silly…I know people don’t deflate when I’m not around. I’m sure they sit and wait patiently for me to show up.

Over the years I’ve self identified as a universal supreme being, the Green Baron and a weekend millionaire but none of that ever changed who I really am. After all is said and done “I yam what I yam”…I’m Popeye!