Twins?

Of all my friends and acquaintances, I think I am the most James Buchanan-like. And I don’t think that’s a self-righteous statement, if only because it’s true. Sure, Jimmy from work was given the same first name and Doug has the same last name, but who among you can deny that we share the same month of birth.? And that’s not where the similarity ends. No sir, that’s only the beginning. James Buchanan and I also share the same hair and that nineteenth century-blue-eyed-stare. And maybe more importantly, there’s obviously something inside my soul-something uncannily James Bucananish. Perhaps it’s a love for high collars or that we’ve both spent some time in Pennsylvania. But, I think it goes even deeper than that.
True, we come from different backgrounds and our births are separated by one hundred and eighty-eight years, eleven months, and twelve days, but we’re connected by something that time and social differences can’t touch. Both of us grew up with kids who spent all their childish days dreaming of becoming firemen and police officers and doctors and nurses and what have you. James and I had bigger things on our mind. We spent nights dreaming of becoming the fifteenth president.