I am Bigfoot

In the north, they speak of this creature called Bigfoot. Perhaps you know him as the Sasquatch. He is a creature of great size, they say, often documented but rarely seen. To anthropologists, he is the Holy Grail of woolly beasts.

So you can imagine my surprise when, today, flicking through some old images on Facebook, I realized that I may be the Sasquatch.

Perhaps I should explain.

You see, I have an unusual habit of appearing in the backgrounds of images on television or in newspapers. Often, I appear out of focus, an amorphous blob, cloaked in earthy golds and blacks. I imagine that to the world, I am an enigma, an unknown. I am the bottom line on a DMV eye chart: a mere blur.

Perhaps, at least physically, it is too easy of a comparison. I am 6’5”. I wear a size 13 shoe. My hair swings from kempt to unkempt with the slightest breeze.

So to further explain, I’d like to present examples of the existence of this Dan Oshinsky… er…. Bigfoot (and, though this is not for the faint of heart, click on the images to see a larger version):

Here I am on January 16, 2006. I appear on the far left of the image, slightly pixelated, left hand gracing an uncouth beard.

CBS cameras caught me on March 4, 2007, in St. Louis, mouth ajar, as former Creighton basketball point guard Nate Funk stands statuesque at the front of the frame. Again, I appear to be sporting unruly facial hair.

Just weeks later, on April 7, 2007, I was spotted on ESPN, out of focus as I exchange greetings with a slightly more humanoid figure wearing gold.

Local photographers in Columbia, Mo., captured me more than a year later, on October 10, 2008, lankily striding in front of a black minivan, just paces behind Senator John McCain.

Finally, on March 26, 2009, I was spotted by several outlets in Phoenix. CBS cameras found me, again in gold, here:

And Sports Illustrated featured me, blurry as ever, here:

What can we learn from these images? For one: there is no definite proof that I am not Bigfoot. The physical similarities are remarkable. The dedication to such a tangled mess of facial hair is undeniable.

So to anthropologists, I say: perhaps one day, you will find me. Or, perhaps not. I am, after all, unmistakably blurry.