I’ve filed suit against Chatham Village for theft of my fictional identity. Here’s why:
The other day, Anne came home from the grocery store with a bag of croutons from Chatham Village. The name on the bag was Garden Herb.
Garden Herb is the nom de scène I adopted for my stage act, in which I do impressions of a variety of vegetables. I adopted it in 1996 when Bill Clinton was re-elected. I realized then that some majority of the electorate lived in a vegetative state and would likely respond favorably to (and pay handsomely for the opportunity of seeing) a series of characterizations to which they could relate morally, ethically, and intellectually. Based on the events and the results of the 2020 Presidential election, things haven’t improved a whit.
Pressing My Suit
Needless to say, this lawsuit will have many wrinkles, all of which should be ironed out when I press my charges. Here’s my plan:
I’m going to sue for compensatory damages because the theft of Garden Herb’s identity has resulted in a significant reduction in my income. (You’d be surprised to know what people will pay for a good zucchini impression.) Since I’d opened accounts in Herb’s name, his credit score has suffered, as well as his ability to pay his bills. I’m going to sue for punitive damages to punish the perpetrator(s) for their malicious usurpation of Herb’s identity and the resulting harm to his self-esteem. And I’m going to sue for intentional infliction of emotional distress because Herb now suffers from anxiety, depression, and a severe identity crisis. Those perps knew exactly what they were doing.
Since I’m like a Dutch uncle to Herb, I’ve sat him down to let him know what some of the ramifications of the lawsuit might be. He may recover his ability to earn a living from his stage act, his credit score may rebound, and he may regain some peace of mind. He may also benefit from legal acknowledgment that he was the victim of identity theft. He may set a legal precedent, potentially helping other victims who’ve had the identities of their fictional characters stolen. His suit may hold the perps accountable, which may have the potential to deter them or other from committing such crimes in the future. And the whole shebang might raise public awareness about identity theft and encourage others to take preventative measures.
But there’s another side to the coin.
If Herb thinks he’s depressed and anxious now, a lengthy and stressful legal process might send him over the edge, to say nothing of the possibility that recounting and reliving the theft of his identity will be emotionally taxing. Add to that the dicey nature of the entire enterprise — hiring an attorney and running up legal expenses can be significant, and there’s no guarantee of winning the suit and recovering those expenses — and you’re talking emotional tightrope. Whatever time Herb has to spend in court will almost necessarily detract from (and distract him during) his stage time. And Herb may end up with the short end of the stick after all if the perp is unable to pay whatever damages might be awarded.
Plan B
Rather than running the risk of a lawsuit for identity theft, I may try to convince Herb to consider just changing his act or pursuing another line of work. There may be a lucrative market for and audiences hungry to see someone impersonate a panoply of small electrical appliances or something. Or maybe Herb could try doing impressions of politicians. Given the number of quacksalvers in that line of work, the lines between fact and fiction, reality and fantasy, and sanity or insanity would be impossible to pin down. That should preclude the likelihood he’ll ever have to file another lawsuit like the one against Chatham Village. Who knows. But nothing should be out of bounds.
As Grandpa O’Brien loved to say, “Strange things are happening.”
