I'm sorry, CB, but I can't remember your name, though I knew it a year or two ago [or maybe, eeek, three or four], for some reason, which I also forget. It was something to do with law and what you do. Cobalt Blue is what sits in my head.
It seems odd to know somebody's "real" name having known them by their Sier name. The Sier name seems more real than their real name. Also, meeting the real person is like seeing a movie after reading the book - one's imagination seems to conflict with the reality.
You have male answer syndrome! <There's a reason we can't remember names but do remember faces. Names are arbitrary. Faces are unique.
We also remember other unique things, like the circumstances of meeting people.>
I never wondered about why names are difficult to recall. That makes sense. Thanks.
I have noticed decades ago that the circumstances are vital too. Meeting somebody I know I know quite well, but out of context, makes them hard to identify.
Having been a salesman, with literally 1000s of names swirling around in my head, names, faces and contexts are a big thing. Move a person out of context, such as from the steel mill to the supermarket, or beach, or social function and if they aren't very familiar, I know damn well I know them, and a lot about them, but until I hook onto some aspect, which releases the whole database flood of information, it's a puzzle.
I tend to just ask where the heck I know them from and apologize for being useless. I say my name too, to avoid them having to try to guess, and say why they'd know me [if I think they might not know me - it seems presumptuous to assume I'm important enough that they'd remember me].
What is surprising is how much information our 1 kg of wet chemistry can hold for decades. Vast realms of information. Umpty petabytes of information. Yet 10 names heard 5 minutes ago are tough to recall and attach to the faces.
Mqurice |
