October 21, 2009

Aaaahhh, Wednesday. Wednesday is French for ‘hump day,’ named for Louis XIV’s dogs. Below is a part of one of the coolest interviews I’ve ever done. It is Louise Harrison, older sister to George Harrison, from a little band called the Beatles. She appeared last February, almost exactly 45 years to the day that the Beatles appeared on Ed Sullivan. In this clip she tells the story of them appearing on that show. She would know. She was there.

For the last prompt I asked: What is currently in your right pocket?

I will use Jason’s answer:

 

“My right hand because I had to check what was in my pocket.”

 

Clever, Jason, clever. My right hand is the only hand I put in my pockets to grab things. Why you ask? Well, my left hand doesn’t work very well. It is a little annoying and also makes for funny situations. I had some sort of neurological damage from birth and I can’t feel very well with the hand. It’s always hard for me to describe. I can’t feel texture. If I had my eyes closed and moved my hand across corduroy and onto metal I wouldn’t be able to tell when the corduroy stopped and the metal started. Also, my pinky, ring, and middle finger mostly move together.

To communicate it to the able the able handed is difficult. I suppose it is like wearing a thin glove on that hand. No one would notice it. It essentially just makes me really right handed. The Devil has been associated with the left hand in legend, which makes me extra holy I assume. If I had a piece of paper, a bouncy ball, and a cell phone in my pocket (which I often do), I wouldn’t be able to tell you which one I’m pulling out. The fun with my left hand is pretty negligible, I don’t really notice it. But, here are the ways I do notice it.

 

-Typing class, seventh grade. We would have to cover our hands with a sheet of paper during typing tests. I was shaking in my B.K. Dymacels. My teacher, Mrs. Nair, was nice enough. She used to always say, “What can I do you for?” Which I still think is a weird expression. I’ve got a good system using three fingers on the old left hand now. I’m actually pretty dast and goodddd#.

-Basketball. I can’t go left.  I used to practice all the time, until I realized I wasn’t getting any better. My grandpa used to tape athletic tape to the bottom of glasses frames so you could learn to dribble without looking down. Everyone just kept putting obstacles in my way.

-Dating. When cuddling when I was first dating, my wife would occasionally tell me, “Jeff your hand is…” Sometimes she would then say, “Hey, that’s your right hand.” Busted.

-Putting my glove on in the outfield during baseball/softball. It was always a very anxious time for me when taking the field to be sure I had my fingers in the right finger wholes before the first pitch.

-Fingernail clipping. I use toenail clippers.

-Identify stuff with your left hand games. I have pointed out that Sunday School was supremely awkward for me anyway. One day the social awkwardness joined forces with the dexterity awkwardness. We played a game where we passed a paper bag around the room and you had to put your left hand in and identify what you were grabbing and pull it out. I don’t know what the fun of this game was supposed to be, other than to point out the kid who can’t feel. It’s like a game identifying noises being played with a deaf child. I said, “Ummm…a smurf?” “No Jeff, that is a full sized garden hose. Good try buddy.”

-Opposite hand thumb wars.

Next prompt: What is your best October memory?

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About jeffhoughton

I'm a sometimes writer, actor, comedian and an all the time adventurer.

One response »

  1. Shanners says:

    Awww – sorry no one posted 😦 I think it’s cuz you’re posting so often now, we just can’t keep up! Your title for this post reminds me of the Elvis song, I’m Left, You’re Right, She’s Gone.
    I do have a great Oct. memory, though…My son (my first child) was born in Oct. of 2000. A funny side to that story is that my Hubby (you know him as “That Guy”) broke his foot riding dirt bikes the day before our son was due, so I spent that night in the ER w/ Hubby, confusing all the Dr.s and nurses as to who they were supposed to be seeing. Damian was kind enough to hold off being born until after his dad’s foot surgery a couple days later. During my labor (a week late), Hubby was having fun doing wheelies around the hospital in a wheel chair, which I’m sure was actually meant for me to use.

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