I
have prosopagnosia.
Don't be alarmed. It's not catching, and I have only a mild case.
I didn't even know there was a name for it until the subject came
up on a segment of "60 Minutes." Watching the program, I thought,
"That could be me up there in New York City being interviewed by
Lesley Stahl. I have it, too."
More times than I like to remember, I have failed to recognize a
familiar face.
That's what prosopagnosia is -- face blindness.
Phonagnosia hasn't been a "60 Minutes" topic (as far as I know)
but I have that, too. The condition only bothers me, though, when
I answer the phone and can't tell who's talking.
That's what Phonagnosia is - trouble recognizing voices. Friends,
some of whom I've known since childhood, tend to get irritated when
I ask as politely as possible, "Who is this?"
One of these days I must face up to those who rarely call anymore
because they've grown weary of having to introduce themselves. I
should explain I have phonagnosia.
"Awww…" the soft-hearted probably will sympathize. "How long have
you had it? Are you in any pain?"
However, before I broach the subject, I need to learn how to pronounce
phonagnosia.
And in regard to facial matters, I must master the pronunciation
of prosopagnosia, the biggest mouthful of syllables since "sesquicentennial"
in Texas in 1986.
I read that Brad Pitt, the movie star, has a severe case of prosopagnosia.
Brad has it so bad that he avoids social gatherings, fearful of
offending guests. When he fails to recognize and speak to someone,
people think he's a snob, and he hates that. (Welcome to Brad Pitt's
pity party.)
Advice to the movie star: The best way to cope with face blindness
is to smile and say, "Hi there!" to everyone you see at a social
gathering. You're an actor: put on an act.
Of course, I'm just kidding about offering advice to a movie star.
Though his face is familiar, I'm pretty sure I've never met Brad
Pitt.
But, based on what I've read, his face blindness is for real.
So is mine.
Through the years, the condition has caused many awkward moments,
especially when I worked at The Sun and saw a whole lot of faces.
It happened all the time - people dropping by the newsroom to pick
up their pictures that had run in the paper. They'd stand by my
desk, waiting, while I fumbled through desk drawers, trying to bide
time. Finally, seeing no way out, I would have to ask. "And the
name?"
They looked hurt. They had been in the newsroom only a week ago,
and besides that, we'd met recently on several occasions. Remember
our class reunion?
One time when I asked, "And the name?" the person in pursuit of
a picture replied, "It's on the back of the picture."
Then there was the friendly lady who dropped by the newsroom to
talk over the good old days. As she rattled on about how much fun
we had growing up together in old Baytown,
I nodded, smiled and wondered who the heck she was. Eventually becoming
suspicious because I wasn't saying much, she asked, "You don't know
me, do you?"
"Sure I do."
"Who am I?"
"Uh … would you like a cup of coffee?"
© Wanda Orton
Baytown Sun Columnist
"Wandering" April
29, 2016 columns
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