As you may remember, I am the local receptionist for a large nonprofit organization. This job does not specifically require me to recognize familiar faces, but that skill would be really helpful.
I know that a lot of the world has trouble with names and faces, but since I like to feel special, I prefer to equate my problem with a bona fide perceptual handicap. As an added benefit, this interpretation relieves me of the responsibility to do anything about it besides think up plausible-sounding explanations.
In this battle over identification, sunglasses fight me the hardest. They work just like those black censor bars on incriminating photographs—if I can’t see your eyes, I don’t know you.
This may be why I never remember much about jazz, blues, or Edith Head.