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I'm left-handed.

 

Don't worry, it's Ok. I'm enjoying it.

 

There have been many instances I’ve encountered over the years where having a leftie around is handier than a three-peckered billy goat. I can't count the number of times where on a job one of my colleagues would blurt out, "God, if I was only left-handed I'd be able to do this!" And there I'd be, springing into his space like some caped crusader, instantly ready to save the day.

 

Lefties have a distinct advantage over right-handers. I refer to right-handers as being Evil People. I say this because lefties learn from the day they poke their head out of the womb they’re forever doomed to articulate and contort themselves and their appendages in order to accomplish simple things. Those things Evil People will forever take for granted because they have so many right-handed things going for them. Indeed, most don't even realize there's a left hand hanging out there. I figure they'll look down one day and say, “Oh my God, Charlie! Where d’ya reckon this came from?”

 

Hey! There’s a thought…how'd it be that if by some Darwinian evolution you people woke up to find a coffee cup bolted to your elbow instead of a forearm? “Say, Bob…aren’t you glad these things showed up? I don’t know about you but I never did figure out what to do with that other gizmo!”

 

I wonder how long left-handers have been ridiculed and discriminated against? Eons, I imagine. Have you ever wondered if Caveman's clubs were right-handed? I seriously doubt that thought ever crossed a right-hander's mind. Hell, I'm surprised it crossed mine, but I think about stupid stuff like that all the time and I'm not suffering with any mental deficiencies. There is, however, one person who worries me and it isn't because he’s right-handed. It's my brother-in-law, Brad.

 

I believe he possesses enough mental deficiencies to lend me some concern.

 

Not long ago I was doing a bit of shopping at my favorite mall and found one of them old, galvanized, 80-gallon pressure tanks. You know...the ones that make a superb reservoir for an air compressor? Well, since I knew Brad wanted one I loaded it up and took it over to him and as I walked into his shop there he was...lying underneath his truck talking to himself.

 

I stood over him shaking my head, “You’d better watch that shit, Bro. Some people are already questioning your mental deficiencies so you don’t wanna give ‘em any reason to get serious about it.”

 

Judging from the audible “thunk” I surmised he jumped and then bumped his precious head on some thingie down there.

 

“Jesus H...” He yelled, “…how do you do that!?”

 

“Do what?” I asked nonchalantly.

 

“Jump outta the concrete like that?”

 

“I learned it in the Orient. Say, what’re you doing down there anyway? I mean, why’re you talking to yourself?”

“I’m trying to loosen these nuts. I get confused which way to turn ‘em when I’m down here.”

 

I hunkered down and looked hard at him fully expecting to see tiny white stars spinning around his head.

 

“Brad…I have to ask. Is it…is it horrible living in your world? They don’t turn any differently down there than they do if you’re looking at ‘em up here.”

 

It's scary for me to think how many mechanics are running loose who believe the leftie loosie, rightie tightie adage is merely a load of bunk designed to trick them.

 

I think the person who said you can’t teach an old dog new tricks was an idiot and probably never owned a dog. I can say that because I'm teaching my dumb right hand new tricks all the time!

 

If everything goes right I'll turn forty-five this coming April. Therefore, it's reasonable for me to state I've been walking on this planet for...ohhh...forty-four years or so and for the majority of them...say...forty-three years - my right hand has remained quite resolute in staying as dumb as a post. This fact, however, will never interfere with my trying to teach him new tricks. I even went so far as to give him an affectionate name..."Poophead".

 

For Poophead, the simple act of hammering was a spectacle people for miles around would walk backwards to come see. I'll always remember the first time I tried to set a nail then drive it using my right hand. I was up on a ladder and I had already nailed everything I could reach on the left, so I shifted to the right and nailed a couple more, but there was that last little bit I could reach only with my right hand. Now, I’m far from being lazy but I'm frugal when it comes to eliminating movement. So, rather than climbing down and shifting the ladder, I stretched out my hammer-equipped right hand and a nail in my left. It’s a good thing no one happened along to witness the debacle because I would’ve looked damned silly up there with my tongue curled on my upper lip as I tried to drive that nail. Closing one eye didn’t help a damn bit and by the time I’d finished, that piece of plywood was tore all to pieces. All of a sudden it became a challenge for me...I was going to put Poophead to work every chance I got.

 

Over the years things progressed...somewhat slovenly, and I couldn't help becoming alarmed that Poophead was suffering from some form of severe learning disability or worse, Attention Deficient Disorder. It seemed the more trust I placed in Poophead the more sinister he became – even to the point where he started showing off. One time I gave him a utility knife to cut a relief in some trim I was installing. I watched with trepidation as he started taking tiny nibbles at first then before I knew it he took a great chunk out of the trim and, failing to stop there, he carried on until he took a rather large one out of my left forefinger.

 

If I was an avid Churchgoer the assembled crowd would’ve smiled approvingly as I exclaimed, “Awww, Poophead, you ought not’ve gone ‘n dun that.” Instead, they stood aghast while I ran around screaming, “Poophead, you rotten sumbitch! What the f-f-f-f…k were you thinking!?”

 

If left-handers are the only ones in their right minds then I have to wonder about the mental state of those people out there who’re actively trying to remove the last of the things made for lefties. I’m talking about the tape measure here. Yes, your every day, run-of-the-mill tape measure is probably one of the few remaining items designed for the gifted left-handed person. I use the word gifted because we seem to be the only ones who aren’t having a hissy fit about reading a tape upside-down. Does anyone really think lefties never pull the tape from the right and read it upside-down? If I’m able to read it without standing on my head - why can’t Evil People do it?

 

I’ll never forget the day I argued with a guy about the way I pulled and read my tape.

 

It was an unusual lunch break in that everyone was being fairly quiet and halfway through it this guy decides to spawn an urgent round of philosophical bullshit. He started it with…“What I wanna know is how come they can’t make a tape for right-handers?” Then he sat there with raised eyebrows no doubt wondering how long it’d be before someone was going to run up and offer him a Pulitzer for such a thought-provoking question.

 

With my spoon frozen in mid-air, I stared at him over the rim of my soup bowl and said, “Ughhh…I’m sure I’m gonna regret asking this, but what the hell are you talking about?”

 

He said, “You know, like when you hook the tape on the left end of a board you have to mark it with your left hand.”

 

This time I raised my eyebrows, “What’s so hard about that?” I asked.

 

“Here,” He said, standing up to go get a board, “You try it.”

 

I set down my bowl of soup and fished out my tape. Holding it in my right hand, I hooked the left end of the board while simultaneously yanking my pencil out from under my hat band. I then pulled the tape along the board and asked, “What measurement do you want?”

 

He looked down at me and said, “Awww, Christ, you’re left-handed ain’t ya? That ain’t fair!”

 

I said, “Ok, I’ll pull from it the right end then.” So, still holding the tape in my right hand, I turned it palm up and repeated the same procedure. Looking up at him I asked, "What measurement do you want?"

 

He looked at me with a scowl saying, “You can’t do it that way!”

 

“Why the Hell can’t I?” I said, picking up my bowl of soup, “I just showed you I could do it. I also showed you how a person in their right mind can improvise, adapt and overcome. You Evil People are capable of doing it, too, but you're always too damned worried about trying to foul us up.”

 

You know...for the rest of that afternoon he didn’t get a lick of work done because he was too busy designing complex situations where it’d be impossible for me to use my measuring tape.

 

I honestly can’t see where anyone left-handed is afforded any greater ability in being able to read upside-down over that of an Evil Person. If you doubt this then I’ve devised a complex situation for you – take a piece of junk mail, turn it upside-down and see if you can read it. Go ahead, do it…no one’s watching you. Ahh, do you see, it’s no problem at all, is it? Now, this may be difficult for Evil People to grasp, but them are entire words! Imagine how easy it’ll be reading numbers upside-down!

 

Since then I've carried on daily life safe in the knowledge that no one would be stupid enough to trouble themselves with manufacturing a right-handed tape. I based this judgment on the fact that surely everyone realized not all Evil Peoples' measurements would be taken from the right end of a board.

 

All this lasted right up until the moment I picked up McFeely’s latest catalog. There, on page 48, right in front of God and everybody was the following headline…

 

At last, a Tape Measure Designed for Right-Handed Users!

 

I looked at the picture and sure enough there is was; a right-to-left reading tape. “Awww, crrrapppp, you gotta be joshing me!” I began reading the explanation...

 

“If you’re right-handed, chances are that the tape measures you’ve used all these years have virtually forced you to become left-handed.”

 

“Well, kiss my ass!” I yelled at the catalog, “What do you think y’all been doing to us lo these many eons, what with your right-handed scissors and your right-handed pencil sharpeners and your right-handed can-openers and everything else you Evil People have cast upon us?” I forced myself to read more…

 

“Think about it – you pick up a tape measure in your right hand, stretch it out, then mark the cut with your left hand! Or you stretch the tape out with your left hand, then practically stand on your head to read the upside down scale!”

 

“Think about it!?!” I yelled at the picture, “Think about what? You mean think about something other than the fact that whoever wrote this is a blithering idiot and thinks all Evil People are fools?” Surely the writer wasn’t suggesting that a right-hander will never have to pull a measurement from the left side is he?” I read on…

 

“Now you can measure with a scale that makes sense for righties. The tape reads right to left, so you can hold the case in your left hand and mark with your right and you won’t need to read upside down markings either!”

 

“Well chew the elastic out of my underwear!” I breathed, “That’s exactly what he’s saying.” Then, like a coup de grace this madman delivered his final blow…

 

“If you’re left-handed, this tape will allow you to more fully appreciate the hardship endured by your right-handed friends!”

 

At that precise moment it was clear to me why us southpaws are known for being the only one in our right minds – when you Evil People poke your heads out of the womb someone comes along and scrambles all your eggs up and then you spend the rest of your lives messing with ours!

 

"C'mon, Poophead, grab that cup of coffee and let's get out of here!"