I received this privately today, and thought it was so wonderful that I asked permission to share it with you all.
The author had previously been subjected to a very long rave from me about Rupert Brooke. I leave it to his discretion whether to reveal himself or not.
(Note: I would love to see other "descriptions" like this, if anyone is so inclined.)
I must make confession of having misled you by omission. I have told you, truthfully, that _____ was my grandfather.
I omitted, however, that my other grandfather was Rufus Brooke, brother of Rupert. Ever since I can remember, family members have commented in awe that I am in appearance the exact image (today, one would say "close") of great-uncle Rupert.
Indeed, in several later-remembered comments, which at the time I was too young to understand, older family members speculated that my parent was born of one of Rupert's orgies in 1914, and that brother Rufus gallantly assumed the paternity upon Rupert's untimely death.
Rupert's extraordinary beauty was, of course, an overwhelming influence on his daily life. Imagine how Michael Jordan would be mobbed were he to even walk down a public street. As youth I realized that if I wished to live a more normal life, I must learn the lesson of great-uncle;s his experience with this fatal beauty. Thus each day must begin with a lengthy regimen, in which my make-up artist, truly a magician, transforms me into the
reasonably-average appearance so that I may mingle freely with the world, freely and anonymously. (In fact, my long daily metamorphosis was the inspiration for the make-up scenes in Tootsie and Mrs. Doubtfire, where like
nunation is achieved.) It would, of course, be far too dangerous to ever let myself be photographed in any other way.
My artist assures me that with luck, effort and planning, my daily disguise can be made to last through a two day weekend. I am once again grateful to him, for without that assurance I could not attend the two days
of Wordpalooza!
Regretting having misled you, but feeling that our relation compels this confession, I entrust my fatal secret to your good graces, dear lady.
