August 13th: Left Hander’s Day

Okay, I know I’m probably the only person that acknowledges this day.  I remember it because it’s the day before my birthday.  I prefer to focus on the fact that it’s Left Hander’s Day versus the fact it’s Friday the 13th.

My first memory of being left-handed goes back to preschool.  They had the really cool left-handed scissors with the green grip.  Note: I was the only left-handed kid in the class but everyone wanted to use those damn scissors. 

It also reminds me of my dad.  He started out left-handed.  No his parents didn’t force him to switch.  He thought he was Captain Marvel, jumped out of a tree (thinking he’d be able to fly?!) and broke his left arm.  He learned to write with his right hand in the meantime.  And his penmanship took a huge dent for that.

I like to blame the fact that I’m clumsy on the myth that lefties tend to die earlier because we’re challenged.  I’ll admit, I have zero hand-eye coordination.  I remember in high school P.E. when we had to play softball my dad let me use his old left-handed mitt.  Perfect, right?  No, as a result the P.E. teacher thought I actually played because I had my own mitt.  I was telling someone recently that I loved when my team would go into the outfield.  It took the pressure off me having to go to bat.   And most importantly, I could talk to my girlfriends while we were in the outfield.  Outfield in my mind was awesome.

The idea that lefties are more creative works for me.  I would definitely describe myself as a creative type.  I think every roommate I had in college would agree with that.  By the end of each year, the wall by my bed looked like a fashion catalog.  The first year, I feared I’d be charged.  Then I learned that they repainted the rooms each year.  So my pencil sketches became a non-issue.

Whether you’re lefty or righty (that just sounds weird!) enjoy your Friday!

I will!

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