There are so many physical and habitual idiosyncracies that identify us as individuals.  Familiarity aids in identifying people at a distance by the way they walk, their carriage and the manner in which they propel themselves.  I can often identify people at a distance whom I have become familiar with, neighbours, for example in this way, even while my eyesight has been compromised to the extent that I cannot distinguish their physical features at that distance, their faces a blur to me.

I have never been very good at recalling peoples' names and have had to employ little memory tics; they work often enough, I would prompt myself when facing one person to mutter into my inner ear: "Mutt and Jeff" to recall that his name was Jeff.  I cannot often correctly identify even faces when they're seen out of context; people we might come across in the ravine and where it's perfectly normal to see them and feel an acquaintanceship, and then when we meet them in another setting, say a shop, I'm perplexed until my husband comes to my rescue.  He remembers details; names, places, faces.

We also have an aural signature; we respond to the voices we know from being close to them.  I remember the first time I heard my own voice in a recording and I could hardly believe it was me.  My voice sounded unlike what I thought it did; it had a twang, a whining quality I had always associated with my ethnic/cultural group.  I cringe inwardly at the very thought that this is what my voice sounds like.  But it is my voice, nonetheless.

My husband's voice, evidently, is so distinct, not only to me, someone who loves him and has been by his side for 62 years, but to others with whom we have a passing acquaintanceship.  Whenever he telephones the veterinarian clinic where we have taken our little dogs for the past 20 years, for their annual health check-ups, the receptionist there knows to whom she is speaking, not only recognizing his name and associating it with our dogs but enquiring after them also by name.

Yesterday he called our local Canadian Tire outlet to enquire whether a sale of leather slippers might be acknowledged that day, though the flyer said the sale would begin today.  The voice at the other end knew to whom she was speaking and enquired after his well-being.  She confirmed the sale price would only apply today, but she said he would only be able to have a choice in size if he bought them yesterday.  Some people do that, she assured him, and they return the following day when the sale is in order, to receive a credit for having paid the full price the day before.

In fact, she said, if he hesitated to go that route he could go along to the store and hand her his choice, and she would set it aside for him, then surrender his slippers to him the following day, and ring them up as a cash sale at that time.  He thanked her, went along to the store, chose two pair of slippers in his size (they would be on half-price sale the following day), paid for them, and retained the invoice, planning to return for his rebate today. 

While there, he sought out the cashier so familiar with his voice and thanked her for her advice.  The fact was there were scant few of the slippers available, despite the advertised sale, and had he not chosen them the day before the sale, it wasn't likely his size would be left after others had gone through them. 

His visits to that store are sporadic and as-needed; they are not a regular routine, as it were.  Yet that woman, who in her line of service work comes across thousands of people during the course of a week was able to retain in her memory bank the sound of a specific voice - and likely many others as well.  Astonishing.