This Saturday, August 13, is Left-Handers Day. Lefties have rights too.
As one of 10% of the earth's population who is left-handed, I have suffered slings and arrows from the dexterous world. (From the Latin dexter - on the right)
Since ancient times, those using the left hand have been deemed instruments of the devil. What makes one left-handed? Theories abound. Researchers have discovered specific alleles of at least one of three single-nucleotide polymorphisms linked to left-handedness. I still prefer Flip Wilson's Geraldine postulate, "The Devil made me do it!"
So they say. I think the anguish of sinistromanuality explains why the left-handed lifespan is 9 years less than that of our right-handed brethren.
Despite all of this, I enjoy being left-handed. I relish in being different. All my life, I've had a distaste for following the crowd. Am I a lefty because of my contrariness? Or is being contrary symptomatic of my left-handness? Causa latet, vis est notissima - Ovid (The cause is hidden, but the result is well known.)
I have one idiosyncratic lefty dysfunction which upsets me - the inability to use a fountain pen. One with a gold nib will form to your hand so that only you can write correctly with it. However, I have yet to find an ink that dries quickly enough. The drag of my left hand over the written words smudge out any possibility of using this stylish stylus.
Left-handers excel in fencing. 44% of the world's top rated fencers are lefties. Alas, the pen may be mightier than the sword, but lefties make better swordsmen than scribes - As ever BB
"I am not afraid of the pen, or the scaffold, or the sword. I will tell the truth wherever I please." Mary Harris "Mother" Jones
No comments:
Post a Comment