Tyler Durden

I was listening to Alice Cooper's "Under My Wheels" the other day, and it got me thinking "What kind of guy is this?" At the very least, the song is alluding to a hookup somewhere just outside the bounds of monogamy. The narrator is trying to get away from his old lady to take this new paramour to "the show." Nothing truly awful there. It's the kind of thing that rock and roll, and its cousin country, has been about forever, but it's the positioning of the characters that makes it a little strange. Under my wheels? Is this suggesting that the solution to the dating dilemma proposed by Alice is that one or both of the women in his life be run over with the car that he is driving? Oh that Alice.
But those of us in the know understand that there really isn't an Alice at all. There was this guy, Vincent Furnier, who fronted one of the first shock-rock band. The name of the band was Alice Cooper. As the group gained in popularity, the focus fell, as it often does, on the lead singer. Months on the road and attempts to establish their brand with a frightened public eventually led to Vincent adopting the name of the band to avoid confusion. Or creating even more.
Vincent wasn't necessarily the kind of guy who would run down his nagging girlfriend. But Alice was. So much so that Vincent eventually disappeared, and Alice Cooper stopped being a band and became this scary persona haunting our nightmares and his own. Art and artifice became inexorably intertwined. Vincent Furnier didn't go to rehab. Alice did.
Many years later, comedian Stephen Colbert experienced a similar disjoint as the character he was portraying on his nightly report became confused with the guy doing the bit. So much so that the neo-con character got invited to speak at the annual Correspondent's Dinner during the second Bush regime. The shock and awe on the dais was palpable. Apparently, they thought they had one of their own up there, sharing the warmth. It was cold. Very cold.
Which left me thinking about myself. When I first started teaching, I thought of "Mister Caven" as a character I was playing. I wasn't the kind of guy who would take away a kid's Legos. But Mister Caven would. I couldn't imagine speaking harshly to a child. But Mister Caven does. There are plenty of things that I would never do that Mister Caven does all the time. The other day when I came home, I noticed I had Legos in my pocket. When did that happen?