I Go With The Goats

MY LEFT HAND

I got drunk
And thought of you,
My left hand
My awkward hand
My poor hand.

Orhan Veli
Translated by Murat Nemet-Nejat, 1989

As a left-handed female, I belong to a fairly exclusive group. Although I don't believe I have suffered terribly being left-handed, growing up surely had its share of frustrations. When I was six years of age, my father was infatuated with having a violin player in the family. He played by ear, and could play not only a mean fiddle, but a guitar, banjo, harmonica, and a little piano as well. So, a student violin was purchased, but to my consternation, it was for a right-handed person. The instructor told Daddy that it did not matter; in fact, if I became an apt student, left-handed violinists proved to be very exceptional. Lessons lasted for a little over a year. Every afternoon when I had to practice, my right wrist and hand would cramp from trying to hold the bow correctly. Tears ensued, and it wasn't long before Dad threw in the rosin. I convinced my parents I would do much better at piano and I took almost three years of lessons. Piano wasn't quite as difficult, but once I began to advance to pieces that required fast high note dexterity, I got just as discouraged as before with violin lessons.

Having one brother as my lone sibling, I was put into action as a "shag" for him. Dad would pitch, Bear (my brother's nickname) would hit, and I had to scramble to retrieve the baseball and throw it back to them. Of course, I never had a left-handed fielder's glove, only the used-up ones Bear had long discarded. My return throw with my right hand was not exactly dependable for accuracy. Then, I would hear dreaded words: "Your turn, Sister!" I learned to bat with my right hand, needless to say.

My Mom loves to fish, and was determined to teach me how to reel and cast properly. Which meant, as usual, I had no choice but to learn the skill right-handed. No left-handed reels in all the family tackle to be had. I spent more time trying to free the knotted mangled line in my reel than actually casting it.

The family always meant well, but I was doomed from the start as the only left-handed member. None of my children have been lefties, but Mother Nature must have a sense of humor: Bear, the super jock and All-American Boy, has two daughters and one son. Yes, my nephew is left-handed. Fortunately for my nephew, my brother already had lots of practice with lefties.

I don't know if left-handed people really are right-brain dominant. I am not particularly artistic, but I do not possess a very analytical mind, either. Kman is a lefty and quite artistic. Having a spouse who shares my handedness is fun and makes for safer seating when we dine at a booth in a restaurant, side by side. Funny, but our minds work similarly, and is noticeable in the way we attack problems or work word puzzles.

Oh well. I have heard that Beethoven, Einstein, and Twain had it rough, too.