A Little Knowledge is a Dangerous Thing

Church this morning was fun. During the greeting time I spotted a familiar face but had to admit I’d forgotten his name.

“Mark,” he told me, then asked for my name in turn.

“Rick,” I responded, then had to repeat myself several times as he misheard me and echoed back several names in error.

I have no idea where this came from, but at that point I said, “Rick” again, fingerspelling R I C K in my typical clumsy fashion.

“Ah, ‘Rick,’” he said, quickly fingerspelling R I C K back to me, his fingers flashing in a fluent, experienced manner.

It was at that point I realized Mark was wearing a huge hearing aid, much more noticeable than the cute little hearing aids behind my ears—obviously he has a more pronounced hearing loss than mine. And he was probably reading lips, which would explain his confusion on my name.

Oops. Now Mark thinks I know sign language. This could get dicey. I only know a grand total of five signs and fingerspelling for perhaps half the alphabet. I wish I knew sign language but haven’t really had a chance to learn yet.

But then the service resumed and I was out of danger.

I recounted this amusing anecdote to two friends after church, and coincidentally, it turned out that one of them is married to a person who knows sign language, and the other knows sign language herself.

This is, of course, a wonderful example of post hoc ergo propter hoc, but I’m thinking this might be a sign that I need to pursue this aforementioned wish further, might you think?