Is that you? (or, the Australian music industry attempts another humiliation of Gigglewick)
On of the interesting things about returning to a town where I have historically spent a lot of time is that I now have every reason to believe that my physical appearance has not altered dramatically in the past 12 years*. I know this, because several of my former acquaintances have now had the pleasure of a completely blank look on my behalf when they have enthusiastically commenced a conversation with me.
It’s pretty poor form in the rural scene to say, “And you are….?”, especially if the person in question is regaling you with wonderful stories about your teen years together.
This is of course exacerbated by perhaps my biggest inter-personal flaw, which can be characterized thusly:
If I see some one who should be familiar to me out of their usual context, I do not see them.
It’s a terrible, terrible curse. It has led me to overlooking several friends while walking down the street, to fail to acknowledge several people I should have said hello to, and generally behave like a slightly “special” a-hole.
There are a few friends of mine who are in bands down this way. I am seriously contemplating going to their next shows just so that I can re-contextualise them in my mind and have a vague hope of recognizing them in the street/cafes should it come to that.
This is not a recent affliction either. Sometimes, I will have a niggling feeling that the person standing in front of me is some one I know. But often I’ll dismiss it, or otherwise spend so long trying to place the person in my mind that I have missed my opportunity to say/do anything.
Of course, there is also the possibility of over-compensation, something in which I happen to excel.
About ten years ago, I was at one of those gigs they used to hold in the city square on Sunday afternoons (so long before "bauble-gate" you'd think it had never happened). I was with some friends and supposed to be meeting with another group part-way through the afternoon.
It was a blues afternoon and reasonably tranquil. Anyway, while I was scanning the crowd to look for my friends, I noticed a friend-of-a-friend, Harry. Thinking that he was there to meet with my other group of friends, and considering he was standing alone, I started to make my way over to say hello.
It would have been nice to catch up with Harry, if it had been him. Of course, it wasn’t.
It was Chris Wilson.
Lucky for me I realized this as I got a bit closer and saw that he was necking a bottle of Jack Daniels (not that there’s anything wrong with that).
I love Chris Wilson. He is ace. However I don't think it would be very good form for me to start a conversation where it is clear that not only do I have no idea who he is, I have in fact mistaken him for some one with not half the music industry profile as he has.
Sometimes I am amazed that I have gone this long without being arrested.
* Not suggesting I have no agency in this. I have recently reverted to a longer hairstyle (aka "hair of old") precipitated by lack of funds/laziness.
It’s pretty poor form in the rural scene to say, “And you are….?”, especially if the person in question is regaling you with wonderful stories about your teen years together.
This is of course exacerbated by perhaps my biggest inter-personal flaw, which can be characterized thusly:
If I see some one who should be familiar to me out of their usual context, I do not see them.
It’s a terrible, terrible curse. It has led me to overlooking several friends while walking down the street, to fail to acknowledge several people I should have said hello to, and generally behave like a slightly “special” a-hole.
There are a few friends of mine who are in bands down this way. I am seriously contemplating going to their next shows just so that I can re-contextualise them in my mind and have a vague hope of recognizing them in the street/cafes should it come to that.
This is not a recent affliction either. Sometimes, I will have a niggling feeling that the person standing in front of me is some one I know. But often I’ll dismiss it, or otherwise spend so long trying to place the person in my mind that I have missed my opportunity to say/do anything.
Of course, there is also the possibility of over-compensation, something in which I happen to excel.
About ten years ago, I was at one of those gigs they used to hold in the city square on Sunday afternoons (so long before "bauble-gate" you'd think it had never happened). I was with some friends and supposed to be meeting with another group part-way through the afternoon.
It was a blues afternoon and reasonably tranquil. Anyway, while I was scanning the crowd to look for my friends, I noticed a friend-of-a-friend, Harry. Thinking that he was there to meet with my other group of friends, and considering he was standing alone, I started to make my way over to say hello.
It would have been nice to catch up with Harry, if it had been him. Of course, it wasn’t.
It was Chris Wilson.
Lucky for me I realized this as I got a bit closer and saw that he was necking a bottle of Jack Daniels (not that there’s anything wrong with that).
I love Chris Wilson. He is ace. However I don't think it would be very good form for me to start a conversation where it is clear that not only do I have no idea who he is, I have in fact mistaken him for some one with not half the music industry profile as he has.
Sometimes I am amazed that I have gone this long without being arrested.
* Not suggesting I have no agency in this. I have recently reverted to a longer hairstyle (aka "hair of old") precipitated by lack of funds/laziness.
posted by gigglewick at
11:17 am
8 Comments:
I met up with a few friends from high school a 2 years ago and they all seemed so old. One doubled in size. It was like the nutty professor, almost. Uhhhhmmmm....
Chai,
That is part of the problem. When I think about how people will look, I picture them as they were the last time I saw them. It's very disconcerting when you run into them and they are a dead ringer for their mum/dad.
On the other hand, if I'd taken the time to explain to CW that I'd mistaken him for a 19 year old, perhaps all would have been forgiven.
I have the same problem - if I see someone out of their usual context, I have no idea who they are. A woman in the newsagent's greeted me by name one day and, seeing my blank look, said, "You don't have any idea who I am, do you?" Erm, no. No, I don't. It turned out to be someone I'd been working with (albeit not very closely) for two years. Yay for me.
I used to have this problem but now I cleverly avoid it by not getting out much.
This is one of the benefits of blogging. If I am standing in front of someone who I only know from exchanging blog comments with them, there is no expectation that I would recognise that person and it doesn't matter because they won't know it's me anyway, unless they recognise the baseball cap or I happen to be standing next to Craig.
Happy New Year
Redcap,
It is possible we are the same person. On the other hand, I did have some one I worked with (again, not that closely, but closely enough) who would re-introduce herself to me every time we met. It was infuriating. Vagueness and a big smile is my solution to the problem. I think its mostly working.
INCraig,
Yes, that is a clever solution. Bravo. And the baseball hat can be used as an ingenious disguise should the need arise. Ace.
Hmm, you could be right. After all, I don't think anyone has ever seen us in the same room together... ;)
That's a good point. I don't think you're the same person but, my God, what would happen if Gigglewick and Redcap were in the same room together?
Much hilarity and alcohol would be had by all? And we'd forget each other's names.
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