Observation Made While Writing by Hand

As I look down now at my hand, a hand which has pulled to me a beautiful woman who brightens my world, a hand which has held two miracles born of that angel and this poor mortal, a hand has felt my father’s firm handshake and has been clasped by a loving mother, a hand which has offered friendship and aid as well as disregard and belligerence, as I look down now at this hand, I am struck by this observation: a modern writing pen is constructed so that the printing on the side is upside down if one holds it in his left hand to write.  It does not matter the brand or the quality. It matters not if I am scribbling my name on a gas receipt or signing an insurance policy: the printing is upside down.

That doesn’t seem right.  It seems unfair. It is as if those who possess the strength of the left hand and the sharpness of the right brain are somehow unworthy of this tiniest bit of information. I must twist my head awkwardly, almost comically, just so I can see who produced this fine scribner's instrument or which drug company chose cheap ballpoints to push the latest antidepressant or erectile dysfunction silver bullet. Honestly though, is there a more fitting tool for advertising ED meds than a pen?

Still, I must ask: What have I done to deserve such treatment? What is the genesis of this bias? How am I, and those like me, to take this slight, this subtle “spit in the face”? Am I to feel inadequate, unappreciated, or belittled because I cannot effortlessly glance down to see that Bic is the culprit that produced the gloppy, smudgy, barely legible collection of scribblings on the page before me? Are we, those of the left-handedness, to be forever relegated to second-class status by an entire society that assumes that because we are nondominant in that manual dexterity which said society has declared dominant, we should not even be considered in low level mass-marketing strategic decisions? I am I doomed to write ever-lengthening draw-out, convoluted, confusing sentences as I rant about a topic which no one truly cares about, all the while unsure of who has crafted my writing utensil?

The answer? Probably not.  

After all, let’s face it: it’s just flippin' a pen.


*I actually wrote this last spring at Prairie Winds Writers and Artists Retreat, and had not looked at it for a year.