This post was originally published in October 2011.
I’m ashamed to admit this, but my parents – well, my Mother – after having lived in Canada since the 1970s, has a problem differentiating one Caucasian from the next.
Take, for example, this elderly couple, who were our neighbors in Vancouver (that’s B.C., Canada) from the early 1980s till my parents sold their house in the late 1990s. (I know this isn’t really them, or even the right nationality, being that it’s “American Gothic” by Grant Wood, but this is how I remember the elderly couple).
My Mother had no problems recognizing them, if they were outside their house gardening or puttering in the shed, but take them outside of their natural habitat and into…
Or…
My Mother suddenly fails to see any resemblance between these people and her neighbors.
I remember once the wife – we’ll call her Mrs. Wells – was sporting a jaunty, fashionable hat and…
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Best spreadsheet ever.
Spending a few weeks back home in Seattle, I’m finding it hard to distinguish one glasses-wearing, facial-hair growing male “hipster” from another. If I’m honest, I can’t tell any of my brother’s friends apart anymore. Maybe I’ve been out of my “native habitat” too long…
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Maybe I need to do a similar spreadsheet for Seattle people now.
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