NAMES. Where do they go?

Can you remember names? I can't. I'm useless at remembering them. They slip though my mind like water through a sieve. I've tried techniques and memory courses and, while they have sometimes worked in other ways, they just don't help me remember names.

It's frequently embarrassing.

Sometimes extremely so. I had a very good friend in an office where I worked years ago. I saw and spoke with him every working day. We discussed work and many wide ranging subjects, enjoying each other' company. One day my manager asked me to introduce him to a new member of staff. The day came. My friend and I were chatting as usual, and the new staff member was brought over to us.

"Hello", I said, "I'm Patrick Wise and this is ..." 

At this point my mind went completely blank. I had forgotten the name of my very good friend, who was standing there, smiling expectantly and looking from one to the other.

But my mind had frozen. I could remember that he shared his name with a very famous rock star, but which one? John Lennon? Elvis? Mick Jagger? Rihanna?  Panic set in and I fluffed. I offered a very lame, "Well, I better leave and let you two introduce yourselves. I have to rush to the post room to catch the morning collection."

Could I remember the name of Paul McCartney? No I couldn't.

I've always had this problem. It was a great relief when work conferences asked us to wear name badges. This helped enormously, but even then there were frequently problems. These name badges were often produced in minuscule print which could only be read from a distance of ten centimetres through a Sherlock Holmes type magnifying glass. This was doubly embarrassing. First because the only way to get that close was when the wearer's attention was distracted and second, if the wearer was a women you certainly didn't want to be seen squinting at her bosom through a magnifying glass. Women have a habit of wearing these badges either dangling on a string in the cleavage area or pinned very close to it.

I liked it at meetings with seldom seen colleagues and visiting agencies when we erected little name cards on the table in front of us. This helped enormously. A personal technique I used to use was to sketch a plan of the table seating arrangement as the meeting began and note each name on it as introductions were made. This was easy to disguise as notes for keen participation in the meeting. And it worked, or it did until we broke for coffee and stood around in groups. Then my mind went to mush again.

Just as people who can sing believe everyone can sing if only they tried - I am living proof that this is not true - so also with people who can remember names. They can. I can't.

A technique I sometimes try, if I'm feeling brave, is to just call the unfortunate 'nameless' person in front of me by any name that comes into my head. I try to choose a widespread one, like John or Mary, just to increase the chances of picking a winner. Sometimes it works, but when it doesn't all is not lost. With any luck they'll reply "John? No, I'm Algernon."

"Oh?" I reply. "Did I call you John? I'm sorry, Algernon. I must have been thinking of John Lennon/Prescott/Smith/Julius Norwich/the Baptist! Silly me! Of course you're Algernon. How could I forget. It's this wine, you know, Algernon. Always goes to my head. Algernon, of course it is!"

Frequent repetition of the name immediately following the gaffe is a desperate attempt to cement it into my brain for future use. It never works, but at least it goes some small way to rescuing the immediate situation.

Perhaps I could try starting a new fashion, although who'd want to model themselves on an old bearded bloke I can't imagine. You know that party game where you think of an outrageous character,  and then write it on a post-it note and stick on someone else's forehead so that you have to guess the name stuck on you? Well, couldn't we all walk around with stylish post-it notes stuck on our foreheads displaying our real names? Do you think that would catch on? No? Fat chance! Shame. It would have helped on old forgetful bloke in our house.

Missing Mr Clarke

1. I do miss Nicholas Campbell Clarke. He was better known to the nation as Nick Clarke and he presented The World At One on BBC Radio 4 at lunchtime every weekday. I liked him because of his extremely skilled interviewing technique. This last few months, in the lead up to the General Election, he would have been in his element.

   Unlike today's interviewers, mainly men I have to add, he was rarely if ever aggressive, and never rude. That was part of his skill. He made his interviewees feel secure and in control. He rarely interrupted them. Then, oh so politely, he would ask the killer questions. If he didn't feel satisfied with the answers he persisted, gently and calmly, to ask those questions. And if those being interviewed had been in any way deceitful, they squirmed. Nick gave them all the rope they needed.

   Compare that with the way political interviews are conducted today. They are less like interviews and more resemble aggressive heated arguments. And are far less informative than Nick Clarke's elegant encounters.

   Sadly Nick was taken from us way before his time, and I am sure I am not alone in missing him and his dulcet tones on the radio.

Thoughts of Armchairman Patrick - April 1st 2015

I've used this blog so far to try and record my early life for my children, and I will continue to do this as and when. However, having run out of steam on that, I now want to widen it's scope by adding some random thoughts as they occur. So here goes.

I am aware that I get annoyed very easily. For example, thousands of pounds of taxpayers money has recently been spent on redesigning a traffic roundabout in our town. It is a busy roundabout used by hundreds of motorists every day. The main thing wrong with it was that the white lines had largely worn away and needed repainting, and a little redesigning. Otherwise it worked well as far as I could see.

Not good enough for the road authorities. No, they decided that it needed major work done on it, and warned us of possible road closures while this was carried out. Up to seven months, they said.

To be fair, the road closures, apart from some lane restriction, did not happen and we were able to still get through with a little patience. However, they have just finished and the work has taken nearly a year.

But have we now got a superb redesigned roundabout? No, not in my opinion. We have lane that throws drivers unexpectedly into the right hand lane when you are expecting to be in the left lane, and another that indicates straight ahead, and then puts you into a turn left lane from which the only escape is across hatching, which is both dangerous and, I believe, against the Highway Code.

These are not the only dangerous aspects of this new design, but I won't bore you further on the subject. Suffice to ask who designs these things? Do they have any practical experience of their subject and suitable qualifications? One does wonder.

I hope that I'm just an old fuddy-duddy in this case, and that I'm proved wrong. I hope that the traffic does run smoothly round the roundabout, but I have an uneasy feeling about it. I really do.

Did you spot any good April Fools jokes today? I didn't, although with the Election getting well and truly underway now that politicians have been kicked out of Westminster to once more seek our crosses on ballot forms, it's hard to tell.