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It all started innocently enough: I was having an ice cream at Sebastian Joe’s. The shop, like many coffee and ice cream places, hangs a rotating display of local (and oftentimes tacky and semi-professional) artists on its walls. I looked up and this time the art was his – Scott Seekins’s. This was too much: I had a sneaking suspicion that either I was stalking him or he was haunting me. I’d seen him in an elevator several times, in the IDS building, walking down Nicollet Mall, at Pizza Luce, on the bus, and at the CC Club. All my friends have seen him – one has seen him at least fifteen times in the past nine months. Everybody knows who he is. People speculate if he’s wearing a wig or not, why he sports such a ridiculous mustache, whether he wears his outfit around the house, and why, of all things, why, he keeps doing what he’s doing. MORE »