DEAR ABBY: The "I remember your name but can't think of your face" solution to forgetting someone's name reminds me of an experience I had at my 50th class reunion at DePauw University in Indiana.
"Fred Anderson!" a fellow classmate greeted me after having obviously partied too long and too well. "You sure have changed. You used to be kind of fat and not as tall."
"I am not Fred Anderson," I replied. "I'm Jack Runninger."
"Oh, you changed your name, too, eh?"
I remember a true story from many years ago about the danger of pretending to know who someone is.
A lady couldn't remember the name of someone she ran into on the street one day. As she racked her brain, the other lady finally mentioned something about her brother.
"Oh, yes ... your dear brother ... what is he doing these days?" she asked, figuring this might give her a clue to the lady's identity.
"Oh, he's still the president of the United States," she replied. (She was Calvin Coolidge's sister.) -- JACK RUNNINGER, ROME, GA.
DEAR JACK: Speaking of Coolidge, he was a man of few words and was nicknamed "Silent Cal."
It was reported that Coolidge was seated next to a lively woman at a dinner party. She turned to Coolidge and said with a smile, "Someone bet me $10 that you wouldn't say three words to me all evening," to which Coolidge replied (with a straight face), "You lose."