The many faces I’ll never remember

I am facially challenged. While some may think that pertains to my own face, it does not. My face may have challenges, but that’s not what I’m talking about.

My problem is recognizing other people’s faces. Let me give a couple of examples.

I had a golf match with a couple of friends not long ago, and we were joined by a fourth guy whom I’d never met. We spent 4½ hours walking and talking on the course, and I got to know him fairly well.

After the round, I went into the golf clubhouse and there was a guy sitting at the bar. I sat down next to him and promptly put out my hand and introduced myself.

He looked at me like I was from another planet. It was the same guy I had just spent 4½ hours with. He had taken off his hat, and I had no clue it was the same person. Rather embarrassing, to say the least.

Then there are the times when I see someone I think I know, but it’s someone else. This has happened more times than I care to remember, but one instance stands out.

I was in the local health club, riding the stationary bike. A guy walked up and began lifting weights at a nearby machine. I looked at him and my muddled brain flashed recognition. It was a friend I hadn’t seen in about a year, or so I thought.

“Hey, stud,” I said in a jokingly seductive tone. “You’re looking pretty buffed.”

He looked at me, a bit startled. “Thanks,” he said, smiling warily, and then he walked away.

I wondered why my old friend wasn’t more friendly. And then I suddenly realized, horrified, it was because he was a total stranger, who obviously assumed I was trying to flirt with him.

Oops. I tried to find him a little later to explain my facial challenge, but he was gone. One thing was for sure — he was nowhere near the showers.

It happens to me all the time, and I know I’m not alone in this particular failing. I apparently have a very minor case (or major, if you talk to that golf partner) of prosopagnosia, which is the clinical name for face blindness.

Wikipedia describes prosopagnosia as a “cognitive disorder of face perception in which the ability to recognize familiar faces is impaired while other aspects of visual processing and intellectual functioning remain intact.”

In other words, just because I have no idea who you are doesn’t mean I can’t have a relatively intelligent conversation with you. Sometimes that’s the only way I’ll figure out your identity, unless you’re kind enough to introduce yourself.

Roughly 2 percent of the population has some degree of face blindness. In severe cases, people cannot even recognize their close friends or family members, or even their own face in the mirror. I’m not even sure my “disorder” even qualifies as part of the 2 percent. It’s usually more comical than debilitating. Some people clearly have serious issues, and there is no treatment.

Lesley Stahl of “60 minutes” did a segment on prosopagnosia a few years ago. She is not afflicted, but she was shown six faces, without hair, turned upside down. Five were celebrities; one was her own daughter. She recognized none of them until the pictures were turned right side up. It gave viewers an idea of what it would be like to have a severe disorder.

Like almost everything in life, it works both ways. Some people are “super-recognizers.” A guy came up to me the other day, in a totally neutral setting, and said my name while looking me over. When I acknowledged who I was, he replied that he thought it was me, but he wasn’t absolutely sure.

That’s because he hadn’t seen me since sixth grade.

We all have strengths and weaknesses, and one of my weaknesses is recognizing faces. With that in mind, I would like to propose three rules. The first is if you haven’t seen a person for six months or more, and you run into him or her in a setting that is out of context , then you must reintroduce yourself when making contact.

The second rule is that if you break rule No. 1 , you shouldn’t be offended if you aren’t immediately recognized. It’s not our fault. And the third rule is either wear a hat or not. No fair mixing it up.

I wondered why my old friend wasn’t more friendly. And then I suddenly realized, horrified, it was because he was a total stranger.