A little bit of recognition goes a long way

His face beams with friendly familiarity. "So glad you could make it," he says. "Did you drive up?" We're at a company gathering, he clearly knows me but I have absolutely no idea who he is. He registers my blank expression, confusion and discomfort. A moment of acute awkwardness follows.

Minutes later, my face reddens with embarrassment. Of course, I know him. I talk to him every morning on a video conference call but this is the first time our paths have crossed in real life. I make my way back across the room to apologise for not recognising him.

The temptation is to blame technology - to claim the laptop camera lies and people look different in real life (they do) - but even before working from home and video conferencing became the norm, I've struggled to recognise faces I should know.

Countless times, people have bounced up in the street or the supermarket with a warm greeting reciprocated with a weak "Oh, hi" as I search the memory banks for a clue to their identity. Invariably, the recognition arrives hours later. Of course, my memory reminds me at 4am, I worked with that person in 1996. Every detail of our association then bubbles to the surface, killing off any chance of getting back to sleep.

Even famous faces elude me. Like the time in the airport lounge many years ago when I noticed a vaguely familiar silver-haired old man smiling my way. Hours later, I realised with a jolt it was Bob Hawke. Or on the 470 bus in Sydney when Tim Rogers from You Am I sat next to me and I remained blissfully unaware of this brush with fame until someone whispered his name when he got off the bus. And, just this year, when I made friends with a little Italian greyhound sporting a stylish coat. "You realise that was Craig Reucassel walking that dog?" my companion asked. I had no idea.

I've wondered if this occasional difficulty recognising faces is prosopagnosia - or face blindness - a neurological disorder. There are two types of prosopagnosia. It can be a wiring problem as the brain develops or it can be acquired after a brain injury. Apart from trying to make sense of economics, I've not suffered a brain injury I'm aware of. And it's not likely to be dementia seeing I've suffered it most of my life.

Taking the Cambridge Face Memory Test, I scored just 63 per cent. The average score is 80 per cent but anything below 60 per cent may suggest face blindness so I'm borderline. The first half of the test involved individual faces and was a breeze. The second involved multiple faces in various lights and this was where I faltered.

Rather than be alarmed, I'm heartened by the test result. It means that when I fail to immediately recognise someone, it's not that I'm uncaring or standoffish. It's just that my brain takes a little longer to establish who that face belongs to. And in that regard I'm in esteemed company. Brad Pitt last year revealed his own suspicion he had face blindness and that he feared people he didn't recognise assumed he was being aloof and conceited.

Doing the test also helps me understand those people I encounter who don't immediately recognise me aren't necessarily snubbing.

But I won't excuse my smartphone. Its facial recognition software recently failed after I shaved my beard off after a mishap with the new trimmer. Now I'm facially hirsute again, it's decided it does know me after all.

I'll be stepping out of the burrow for a couple of weeks over Christmas, taking time to sharpen the quills for the year ahead. Garry and Steve will turn up in your inboxes. Have a wonderful Christmas and New Year.

HAVE YOUR SAY: Are you aware of prosopagnosia? Have you had embarrassing moments when you've failed to recognise someone? Have you been taken aback by someone failing to recognise you? Email us: echidna@theechidna.com.au

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THEY SAID IT: "First you forget names, then you forget faces. Next you forget to pull your zipper up and finally, you forget to pull it down." - George Burns

YOU SAID IT: Garry's hilarious dispatch from the front line of the suburban Christmas Lights battlefield had the burrow chuckling on Friday.

Sue writes: "Can't thank you enough for relieving my mind. I thought I was the only partner to tremble in fear at this time of year. It starts in November with the scouring of large hardware shop shelves. Junction boxes that are weatherproof, cable ties, or that new inflatable that will excite the small people in the neighbourhood are worth hunting out or fighting the like-minded crowds for. Then the lengthy installation with accompanying swearing and heat stroke. Adjustments are made after that, for storm protection and wind attack (fatal for inflatables) and then we fall in front of nighttime TV and wait to hear the comments float up on the breeze (that we're monitoring for inflatables protection) from the street below. The holy grail of achievement is when we hear "Great lights! Love it!" shouted from passing cars and people stop to take photos in front of the Merry Christmas illuminated across our front lawn. And actually the neighbours front lawn, too. Enough Is never enough. Can you let me know where your partner escaped to? I've got to plan before next November."

"Great piece, Garry," writes Chris. "You gave us what we need - some fun and laughter. My wife made our tree from fallen tree branches, though most of the baubles she bought cheaply. She made other decorations from the reuse of plastic coat hangers. We do have a string of plain yellow lights, which occasionally, flash across the large street-facing living room window."

Drew writes: "Truly whacky - well done!"

"Best yet!" writes Anita. "Hilarious. I have no way of coming close and won't even try!"

Sue B writes: "When my kids were younger I used to decorate, which included lights, but not outdoor ones and a real pine tree. I could argue that this was a matter of being tasteful with my decorations, but honestly, it was largely financial. I don't decorate now, as there are no kids in the house and Christmas is, these days, pretty much a celebration for kids. All these decorations are comparatively cheaper than they used to be, and are certainly more available, so it is not surprising to see so many on display and on the whole I enjoy seeing them, as long as they are not inconveniencing others with late night noise and lights which prevent others from being able to sleep. I don't think the point of Christmas is to make life difficult for others! Love the Echidna. Keep the flag flying. Cheers, and Seasons Greetings."

"Why are you telling me all this?" asks Lyn. "Living in a high-rise leaves a lot to be desired at this time of year. With all your lawn and roof, chimney, those joyful pursuits are just a memory to me. My neighbours are so quiet and respectful. Their customs cannot be improved. The worst is Santa has to wait outside. He has no fob. Sob. Don't choke on your turkey (my kitchenette has no room for more than a pigeon - fortunately stuffed with pies, while living down the road). Thanks for asking, Garry. Have a good one - and all the other darlings."