Three times in a week, I’m mistaken for Mike

It happened two more times last night.

Mike Miller

After dropping by the victory party Cameron Runyan was having at 701 Whaley, I went to Kit Smith’s house to see what was happening with Daniel Coble. I went in wondering whether things were going well — and knowing that if they weren’t, people would feel somewhat constrained with a blogger in their midst. It only took a moment to find out that Daniel was a close second in a runoff, and that the campaign felt good about that — better than if they had been in a runoff with Jenny Isgett.

As I was absorbing that, a nice lady came up to me and started telling me that while she hadn’t followed me all that closely when I was at the newspaper, she had really come to appreciate my work, and she really, truly appreciated that I had decided to throw in my lot with the Coble campaign, and then she gave me a big hug. As I was trying figure this out, and muttering, “But I’m not… that is, I’m neutral… I mean…,” Bud Ferillo explained that I was there as a blogger. At which point the lady stepped back and looked at me and realized who I was.

Which was not Mike Miller.

A very short while later, I was in another room discussing the state of the world with Joel Smith, and a man came up to me and said, “Hi, you’re Mike Miller. I’m…,” at which point I interrupted to say, “No, I’m not.”

Not Mike Miller.

I told you previously about how this happened over at Belinda Gergel’s house the day she and Mike and Steve Morrison endorsed Daniel.

I don’t know what it is (it’s not like Mike looks like THIS guy), but I can almost sorta kinda see it. And I have this vague memory of this mistake having happened once or twice, long ago, when we worked at the paper together. Something about general similarity in height and weight and maybe head shape, and now hair color. We’re both from the Pee Dee (he’s from Dillon; I’m from Bennettsville), but I don’t think that’s it.

Most of the folks at that gathering had on Daniel Coble stickers. I felt like I needed my own sticker, in the same yellow-and-black motif that Rob Barge designed for him, saying “I’m not Mike Miller.” But I don’t know if it would do any good…

10 thoughts on “Three times in a week, I’m mistaken for Mike”

`Kathryn Fenner April 4, 2012 at 2:23 pm

I did several double takes at the Gerglery–you do resemble him in both the general white guy with full gray hair and glasses, and the way you dressed that day.

I got mistaken for Julie Ann Avins at Rotary. I don’t see it…

bud April 4, 2012 at 2:33 pm

The resemblance is striking. I thought Miller was you in the photo but that you had different, more rectangular-rimmed glasses. But after reading the column I realized that was not the case.

Brad April 4, 2012 at 2:50 pm

I am NOT a “general white guy” type. There are guys who are — or fit into one of many general white guy “looks.” I’ve never been one of them. I’ve always liked that about myself. There are only three or four guys in the world for whom I’ve been mistaken in my life. For good or ill, I mainly just look like me.

But don’t even get me started on all the people who think I’m Alec Baldwin… 🙂

Silence April 4, 2012 at 2:52 pm

The solution would be to go back to your bearded look.

Silence April 4, 2012 at 2:55 pm

When Central Casting gets a call asking for a “general white guy with full gray hair and glasses” they send Brad Warthen, or Mike Miller. I’m not sure which one.

Brad April 4, 2012 at 2:58 pm

Riffing on that point — I’ll never get discovered by Hollywood. Not because I’m not leading-man handsome, but because I don’t fit well into ANY type. And Hollywood needs people who very comfortably project certain characteristics that audiences immediately interpret as revealing character.

For instance, my Twitter follower Adam (not to be confused with Alec or his brothers) Baldwin has a face that goes with his “Jayne Cobb”-type characters: Big, tough guys with a chip on their shoulders who aren’t overly given to introspection.

Joe Pesci is no Adonis, but his face very comfortably fits certain marketable characters. And look at Harry Dean Stanton — perfect average, put-upon, working-class, anonymous sort of face. They’re not good-looking, but their faces are eminently marketable. Mine isn’t.