How do you handle it? It might be a diva problem--that's what I call any kind of whine that has to do with the results of luck or happiness or success. Like "oh, my chauffeur is late again, I HATE that." (That’s a made-up one, you understand.)
But a not-made up one--is my continuing and increasing inability to remember people’s names. Oh, wait, it’s not that I don’t remember their names. Well, I do KNOW their names, I just can’t always retrieve them frm my poor brain.
The other weekend at a conference, I saw a person who I’ve known for--years. Literally. Years. I hadn’t seen her for a while, I'd say, but I certainly know all about her. Her books, all her successes. I remembered the contents of speeches she'd given, and who her best friend was, the title and opening sentence of her latest book. But her name? Nope.
Is there an explanation for this? I gave her a hug, because I truly was happy to see her--whatever her name was--and figured if I just relaxed, my brain would finally retrieve her name. Making matters worse, a pal of mine --whose name I did remember, since we were about to be on a panel together--came up to us. I tried the old—“you know Sally, right?” Figuring the nameless friend would introduce herself and I'd be saved. That didn’t happen.
A few moments later--her name came to mind. And I said it, out loud, a couple of times. And counted my blessings. And I will always remember it, that’s for sure. But lordy lord, I really wish that didn’t happen.
Now my husband Jonathan—whose name I generally do remember—has a solution. He says: just ask the person their name. Just ask the person their name?
I say. Oh, no, I can’t do that.
Sure you can, he says. Just say—yikes, (or whatever) your name is on the tip of my tongue, help me out. Everyone has the same problem, so just own it.
I know it makes sense. And if someone said it to me, I’d completely be fine with it. And admire them for their self-actualization. But I just can't bring myself to do it.
There are a couple of things that make it even worse. I’m a TV reporter and come into people’s living rooms every day. So people think they know me. And that’s very lovely. I’m delighted with that. But, sometimes people come up to me and say, Hank! So great to see you! And know some of them DON’T really know me, but they don’t say that.
Then I have to decide—my mental rolodex flipping like mad—whether I actually know them, or whether they’re just being adorably enthusiastic about someone they’ve only seen in pixels.
“Where did we meet, again?” I sometimes can get myself to say. Sigh.
Or how about when the person says “Remember me?” Argh. No. Maybe I don’t. But actually, that opening does give me the courage to say—ah, oh no, remind me. Because it’s no fun when a conversation begins with a pop quiz.
Does this blog sound crabby? I don’t mean it to. It’s just frustrating to realize my brain has ceased to function in this arena.
The Neuromarketing newsletter offers a solution, which I offer to you.
“Researchers from four universities report in the Annals of Neurology that people who absorb glucose more slowly than those who metabolize it quickly are more forgetful and are more likely to have a faulty dentate gyrus, a pocket in the hippocampus section of the brain…
The dentate gyrus’s exact function is unknown. But it’s one of several circuits in the hippocampus that, if disrupted, impairs memory, such as a person’s ability to learn the names of new people or to remember where they parked their car.”
It’s my dentate gyrus. Yeah. That’s gotta be it.
I’ve tried the tricks. Like we went to a local restaurant many years ago, and the maitre d’s name, I was told, was Fred. So I said to myself, “Fred, you’re fed.” I said it a couple of times, and you know, it really worked, I’ll never forget that Fred is the maitre d at the restaurant. Problem is, he hasn’t worked there for the past several years. The name of the current maitre d? No idea.
Another article I found says it occurs
“…because a person’s name is the single context of human memory most apt to be forgotten. So, widen other areas of your memory circuit and repeat the name out loud in the beginning, during and at the end of the conversation. When you speak the name, hear the name, and listen to yourself say the name, you will remember it.
Okay, good one. And perhaps. But my solution, a modest proposal, is that we all do what we do at conventions. Wear nametags.
Really, seriously, I will if you will. Okay, maybe not. But isn’t it lovely when people do? If not, do me a favor. And I’ll do it back. I always introduce myself, figuring I’m not the only one whose brain has decided to delete all name references. So just tell me your name.
Do you have any name-remembering tips? Does this drive you crazy?
One article I read says we can’t remember names because we think we can’t. And as a result, we can’t. Okay, then, I think I can, I think I can. And meanwhile, I’m gonna feed my dentate gyrus.
I hear ya, Hank. My memory used to be amazing, even to me. I can still remember things and people and even phone numbers decades later. But I've been losing names right and left.
One acquaintance has a good solution, which works in most cases that don't involve family members or your best friends. She sticks her hand right out, and preemptively says something like, "Hello! I'm So-and-So. And your name is...?"
The very worst is when you go to introduce someone, say your husband or your neighbor of 20 years, and you go blank on the name. So frustrating!
Posted by: Karen in Ohio | February 18, 2013 at 06:17 AM
OH, my goodness, Karen, I SO agree.
I know, and I've (unsuccessfully) tried a version of that--I say, Hi,Im Hank...pause pause. Then the person says--Hank, I KNOW, we were just intrdouced five minutes ago.
Posted by: Hank Phillippi Ryan | February 18, 2013 at 07:50 AM
Names are SUCH a problem. I've coined the term "name dyslexia" and used to explain to students on the first day of class that it was not a sign that I didn't like them, that my mother did it all the time, and I KNEW she loved us. One wag, said, "so maybe it's an age thing?" (classmates gasped)
"No, a family thing, the two-year-old is already doing it."
I did love the few years when we required students to wear I.D.s, but they were expensive and the students hated them, so I reverted to calling my tall high school students "darlin'" and "sweetie" or checking the seating chart for a name -- and sometimes sending the out with the wrong name on a hall pass . . . ;-)
Posted by: Storyteller Mary | February 18, 2013 at 08:11 AM
Hi Hank, it's Catriona (large, "blonde", Scottish).
Your idea of introducing yourself is a good one: might shoogle out a return intro from the other person and makes it clear you don't think you're too famous to have to.
I've met two people in my life who thought they were beyond having to say their names (numpties) and on the other hand have met a couple of truly famous people who just introduced themselves like everyone else and endeared themselves greatly.
Jonathon's idea - no offence - is a real half-a-baby, boy special!
My tuppenceworth is: start calling everyone darling.
Posted by: catriona mcpherson | February 18, 2013 at 08:13 AM
Cx, I LOVE darling, and I wish I could say it with an accent, because then it sounds even better. ANY kind of an accent.
But isn't that the absolute indication that you have NO IDEA?
NAme dyslexia, MAry, I love it. Can we get some kind of a grant to study it?
Posted by: Hank Phillippi Ryan | February 18, 2013 at 08:19 AM
You need to get tricksy with it. Say darling and then when you've rememembered or been reminded say "Edna, darling" a couple of times, well spaced, and then back to darling. Also works with sweetie, dear one, and beloved. (Sorry - still coming down from Downton.)
Posted by: catriona mcpherson | February 18, 2013 at 09:08 AM
OH, yes, yes, the old "I knew it all along" trick. But seriously, (although I was serious before) when you stop trying to remember, that's when the name arrives in your brain.
Posted by: Hank Phillippi Ryan | February 18, 2013 at 09:14 AM
Oh, dear, having a Mitt Romney moment, being introduced three times in an hour? LOL
Like so many authors, I traveled the country for 15 years, doing tons of public speaking and manning a booth at consumer shows. In that time I must have "met" tens of thousands of people. What killed me was when they would come up to me and expect me to remember them because they'd sat in an audience of a talk I'd given! Omniscience has never been my strong suit.
Not to worry, Hank. Next time we meet I'll be sure and remind you of my name.
Did you know Nancy Martin does not recognize faces, even of people she knows well? I can't imagine how much harder that would be!
Posted by: Karen in Ohio | February 18, 2013 at 10:36 AM
Karen, I didn't know that! Really. Huh. I am thinking about that now..wow. That would be very difficult.
And thanks--we'll all do it for each other, right? xo
Posted by: Hank Phillippi Ryan | February 18, 2013 at 10:44 AM
I can SO relate to this--whatever the reason! My friend gave me this idea to remember neighbors' names from our street. She lists them on the garage wall in the order they live on the street--since she most often sees them walking in the neighborhood! No good ideas for conventions tho...
Posted by: Vickie P | February 18, 2013 at 12:06 PM
Good idea, Vickie P! Like SECRET nametags.
We all do what we can do...
Posted by: Hank Phillippi Ryan | February 18, 2013 at 02:36 PM
Hank,
I can so relate to this name issue. The fact is, the older we get the more people we have met. I've been in sales, interviewed a lot of people, raised two kids and learned the names of their friends and their friends' parents names. Attended a college for two years and went to a different one two years and graduated. The list goes on. (What I find weird is that almost everyone I see looks like someone else I've seen before--I noticed this while people-watching at an airport recently.)
My best advice is to stop worrying about this and realize your brain is overloaded with names. It's not a big deal or a failing that you don't remember names. I try to give an extra friendly smile and say to the person "I know you, but please refresh me on what your name is." This puts me at ease to listen to what they are saying and I think it makes me so more confident--at least I hope so! If I was thinking "Mary," and they say "I'm Mary," I will say, "I thought so!" Once, when I said "refresh my memory," the person said "I know you and I can't remember your name either."
I hope this brilliant tip wins me your award-winning "The Other Woman" book, in which case I will remember your name for life--or at least until we meet again at Midwest Writers Workshop in July. LOL
Posted by: CathyShouse | February 18, 2013 at 07:36 PM
Cathy, you have given me hope and ..perspective. Thank you! ANd see you in July...make sure we introduce each other , okay?
I'll announce the winner of THE OTHER WOMAN here tomorrow~so lovely to talk to you all today!
Posted by: Hank Phillippi Ryan | February 18, 2013 at 08:44 PM
Ooh and - thank you for the vocabulary gift of "diva problem"!
Posted by: catriona mcpherson | February 18, 2013 at 09:01 PM
I met up with one of my favorite storytellers at the big festival in Jonesborough, TN, an overwhelmingly huge event. I saw the panic in his face and quickly said, "It's alright, Bobby. I'm Mary Garrett from St. Louis." (as is he, and we've known each other for YEARS). He smiled and admitted to having fumbled the name, but then said, "I'll tell you what I do remember. You used to come to events with your mother, and the last time I saw you, your mom was in a wheelchair." . . . and she had said, "He won't remember me," but I had pushed the chair down to the front of the auditorium where they had a great visit.
With memories like that, who needs names?
(but if you do where a name tag, consider the advice our Prudential managers gave and put them on your right side, more visible when shaking hands . . . )
Posted by: Storyteller Mary | February 19, 2013 at 05:44 AM
Yes, Mary, that's SO interesting. I can often (Sometimes)remember EVERYTHING sbout the person..just not, instantly, the name. Our brains are funny.
ANd Catriona, yeah...it's a good perspective thing...xoo
Posted by: Hank Phillippi Ryan | February 19, 2013 at 07:24 AM
Hey..I just typed the cvaptcha word incorrectly, I know I did, and it stll worked. What's up with that?
Posted by: Hank Phillippi Ryan | February 19, 2013 at 07:24 AM
I think captcha grades on the curve . . .
Posted by: Storyteller Mary | February 19, 2013 at 07:46 AM
And the winner of THE OTHER WOMAN is VickieP! VIckie, email me at h ryan at whdh dot com and I will send it right along!
love to all...
Posted by: Hank Phillippi Ryan | February 20, 2013 at 07:47 AM
Hank, Facebook and Twitter have helped me...a little. Because I mostly remember things as images or print, if I can remember their photo, I stand a better chance. It's like little flashcards, a little training every day. It doesn't work as well if people have pics of their pets, though! But it's getting harder and harder to recall names... Oy.
Dana (glasses, mad hair, not as Scottish as Catriona)
Posted by: Dana Cameron | February 20, 2013 at 09:16 AM
Hi Hank, Scottish researchers are now calling this type of memory loss, Busy Lifestyle Syndrome (BLS). That sound a teensy bit like you? Just a little? xoxo
Posted by: Reine | February 20, 2013 at 09:19 AM
Karen, Tess Gerritsen also has prosopagnosia. She says that's why you won't see her at many writers' conferences.
Posted by: Reine | February 20, 2013 at 09:25 AM
BLS! Love it! Thank you, Reine, and now I have a lovely excuse.
And I had no idea about Tess...huh. Really. Huh. NO idea.
ANd Dana, yeah, I so agree! Facebook is so helpful for that!
An now I am remembering the scene in Devil Wears Prada, where--oh, what's her name? Miranda, yay me----has Anne Hathaway whisper peoples names in her ear. I need that.
(Me: no glasses, mad hair unless I'm careful, not Scottish at all except at heart)
Posted by: Hank Phillippi Ryan | February 20, 2013 at 09:37 AM
That dentate gyrus, that must be the place I was dropped on my head, repeatedly, as a child. :) The last few years, name recall has gotten worse and worse.
Mary (pretty sure)-glasses, hair gray or brown depending on available spray paint, definite Scots in the family because we all say 'didna' and 'couldna.'
Posted by: Mary | February 20, 2013 at 05:19 PM