By allowing ads to appear on this site, you support the local businesses who, in turn, support great journalism.
Familiar faces
Placeholder Image

Something twisted happens to your mind as you put on the years and embrace more birthdays than you want to count. Take me. I’m a fresh, young 51, and now I’m struggling like never before. You might be thinking, "What’s happened to that poor boy’s mind?" It’s funny how often I hear that question, but this particular mental quirk isn’t dangerous. It’s not a disease, or a disability, or an intense desire to raise French poodles for show. Let’s just say, I have no trouble recognizing people. I know that sounds odd, so I’ll say it again, "I recognize everyone I meet." I’ll meet someone new, and my brain will light up and say, "Doesn’t that face look familiar? You know this person. Sure, you do!" So, I’ll say, "Don’t I know you from somewhere? You look so familiar..." And — more often than I can count — the person will smile politely, and say, "No. We’ve never met, before." Well, that’s not what my brain says. It keeps insisting it recognizes that face, and I sit and wonder, "Why doesn’t this person remember me?" After having this happen over and over, I’ve figured out the source of the problem. As it turns out, I watched too many TV shows when I was younger. My mind sees these people and somehow it jumps back to some personality from some long-forgotten TV show or movie. When I meet you, I don’t see you. I see Walter Cronkite, Victoria Principal, or Pee Wee Herman. Everyone was right. TV does rot your brain.

Tonight was a typical night. I was eating with the family, and I was sure I’d met the waitress before. Being the brash guy I am, I said, "You look familiar. Have you worked somewhere else in town?" She looked at me and said, "Nope. I just moved here." Well, after my family had a good laugh, I figured out who she was. This young lady looked like Laverne DeFazio of "Laverne and Shirley" fame. This happens all the time. I see Meg Ryan in the grocery store, ringing up tubs of ice cream. Tom Cruise folds towels in a laundromat. I think Danny DeVito shined my shoes once. If you meet me, and I say, "Don’t I know you from somewhere? You look so familiar..." just play along. Say, "Yes. We met on Gilligan’s Island, back in 1966." I won’t believe you, but my mind will shut up, and that’s all that matters.

 

David McCoy, a notorious storyteller and proud Yellow Jacket, lives in Conyers and can be reached at davmccoy@bellsouth.net