When I was born, my parents named me "Blair" in honor of Dad's father. We're not really sure where he got it from, but it's been in the family long enough that I don't see myself trading it for a different one any time soon.

One big drawback to my name is that it confuses people. I've long since lost count of the number of well-meaning people who've insisted that I don't know how to spell or pronounce my own name. The variations never cease to surprise me. "Brian" is one common mistake, but I've also been saddled with "Blake", "Blaine" and one time, "Jim" (I never did figure that one out). One friend, Claire, who at least has the excuse of having a similar sounding name, came up with her own unique spelling for my name: B-L-A-I-R-E-<backspace>.

Of course, spelling is only one way in which my name confuses people.

Have you ever heard of an actress named Lisa Whelchel? From 1979 to 1988, she was one of the stars of a sitcom called, "The Facts of Life." Her character's name was "Blair Warner." During about the same period, another actress, Blair Brown, was also making a name for herself. Both of these actresses have had a profound impact on my life. To this day, a significant portion of my junk mail comes in addressed to Ms. Blair Learn. (On the plus side, back in college, due to some nameless administrator "correcting" my student information, I was briefly assigned to the women's dorm.)

Up until recently though, no matter what other mistakes people might make about my name, if anyone used the name, "Blair," I was pretty sure they were talking about me. That changed recently.

One of the upper level executives at my office is also named Blair. We've crossed paths a few time in the past three years, but since he was working in another business unit, there's been very little confusion. Recently though, the company went through one of those periodic reorganizations all companies seem to go through. One bit of fallout from this was that my business unit was merged with the one that "The Other Blair" is in.

Aside from the time HR got our payroll records reversed (they got our states of residence reversed, but never once gave me his higher rate of pay), there hasn't been much confusion about the two Blairs. I'd get the occasional email intended for "The Other Blair" at a rate of about one every six months, but that was really about all there was to it. In the aftermath of the reorganization, things have changed.

Recently, I overheard two executives, Joe and Harold, talking with someone from my group. What caught my attention was Joe saying "Blair told me...." and Harold adding, "And then Blair promised me...." My first reaction was that I hadn't talked to Joe about anything of consequence for at least a month, and I've never had much contact with Harold, much less promised him anything. It took a while before I realized they were referring to "that other guy."

Two weeks later, I got an email from the head of the Quality Assurance Group about some computer hardware she needed. I was completely flummoxed until it occured to me to ask if she perhaps intended it for a different "Blair".

Currently I'm getting his junk mail several items a week. In fact, today's mail included what looked like an invitation to a party a vendor is throwing (I'm getting used to double-checking the address labels before opening the mail).

The best story so far happened last week. The President of the combined companies sent out a memo detailing how the two groups will be merged, including a high-level version of who's reporting to who. About an hour later, someone I've been working with for three years congratulated me on my new position as Vice President for Operations.

And this confusion is from having just two people named Blair. How on Earth do you people with common names survive?