The Mirror

I went to lunch at Hoodburger, in Inglewood, yesterday with my friend Ben and his eldest daughter, Josie. We ordered our food and grabbed an empty booth at the far end of the restaurant. Josie stood up in the booth, threw her arms around her dad and started giggling at our reflections in the mirror beside the booth. ‘I want my chips!’ Josie hollered. Josie is 3 years old and cute as a button.

‘Was it confusing for Josie when she first saw herself in a mirror?’ I asked.

‘Not really,’ Ben replied. ‘She just found it funny. But she’s still coming to terms with her other self, even now.’

Ben lifted her over his shoulder and playfully teased, ‘Reflection time Josiiiiiie!’ Her giggles rolled on as she waved at the reflections. Ben laughed with her as he rocked her from side to side.

I first met Ben around 14 years ago. He was heavily involved in Perth’s underground music scene, DJ-ing, organising events and promoting artists, always with selflessness and modesty. Ben and his partner, Aimee, both manage busy schedules but are excellent parents: dedicated, nurturing and conscientious.

Afterwards, I joined my friends Luke, Maria, Eric and his son Zackary in celebrating Eric’s birthday at his place in North Perth. Eric was preparing for the opening night of his exhibition and fresh art works were strewn about the house. I wandered around the house, browsing the paintings. They were rough, abstract pieces and I liked them. Eric walked with me, explaining in his thick French accent what each piece meant to him. I often fail to catch what he says. I think he knows but he’s a good sport. ‘Tout ce que!’ he’d say, waving his hand with a smile.

I joined everyone at the dining table. I’d known Zac since he was a little kid. He’s now a tall, handsome 20-something, but I noticed his complexion was a bit pale. ‘What have you been doing Zac?’

‘Nothing,’ he said, looking deflated, ‘Getting up. Playing Fortnight. Going to bed.’ He sipped his beer.

‘Uh-huh’ I mumbled. I glanced at Eric who smiled and shrugged.

I then remembered that Zack’s leg had been broken from a soccer injury when it connected with another player’s. Zack had told me a month before, but I’d forgotten. Eric offered me a beer, but I declined, explaining that I was on a diet. I started feeling hungry and decided to go home and eat. 

I excused myself, said goodbye and made my way outside to collect my bike. I put my headphones on and shuffled through apps on my phone to find music to stream for the ride home, when I stopped at an image that was both familiar and strange. It was a picture of my dad wearing a baseball cap. I opened the page and it took me a second to realise what I was looking at. I’d downloaded the FaceApp application a month prior and hadn’t used it, but notifications were still active. FaceApp was suggesting I preview an artificially ‘aged’ version of Ben that looked exactly like Dad!

‘Holy shit …!’ I said, walking back inside Eric’s house. ‘Look at this!’ I passed my phone to Luke with the doctored but convincing image of Ben as a septuagenarian.

‘What’s this?’ Luke said.

‘It’s Ben …!’ I said. ‘…with an aged filter. He looks like my dad!’

Luke is one of Ben’s oldest friends. They’ve co-hosted a cutting-edge electronic music show on RTR called Underground Solution for almost fifteen years. They’re practically brothers. ‘Nah,’ said Luke. ‘I don’t reckon.’

‘Let me see.’ said Maria. ‘Whoa, oh yeah, I see it. Yep, they do look similar.’

I’d first noted Ben’s resemblance to my dad a couple of years ago. It was just in fleeting moments but it was there. I’d mentioned it to Ben once and remember him changing the subject pretty quickly. I raised the topic with Ben’s partner, Aimee, earlier this year. ‘Ben reminds me of my dad.’ I said to her.

‘Really?’ She asked, smiling generously.

‘Yes. It’s Ben’s mannerisms. The way he talks and when he’s serious he looks a lot like him. It’s weird.’

Aimee laughed. ‘That is strange.’

I sent the ‘aged’ Ben picture to Dad and wrote, ‘That Faceapp aged my friend Ben. He turned into you.’

Dad replied today: ‘One thing I don’t need is an app to make me look older.’

‘I sent the picture to Ben and texted, ‘Faceapp did this with your photo and you turned into my dad.’

‘Huh?’ Ben said.

‘You’re my dad!’ I said.

I couldn’t help but read Ben’s reply in Dad’s, fatherly voice, ‘I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while now, Tim.’