Why does the right hand get all the good jobs, br like greeting visiting dignitaries br (such a pleasure) , br or blowing farewell kisses to the one you love br (such sweet sorrow) , br or playing the melody while the left br has to oompah along in the bass? br Right-handers get the best adjectives too. br I mean, we’d all like to be br adroit (as the French have it) . br So why do we poor southpaws have to be br gauche or, while we’re about it, gawky? br Tactless, without grace, ungainly, awkward, br physically and socially inept, that’s us. br And Latin’s no better. br We’d like to be dextrous too. br What makes us br sinister? Was Dracula br left-handed, or something? br br Even when we can hammer br or saw or paint or drive a screw br with either hand equally, br or cut the nails on both sets of fingers, br they only say we are ambi- br dextrous, which is a bit of a left-handed br compliment, treating the left br as if it were an honorary right, br as if it had no right br to be skilful br in its own right. br br I suppose my left hand ought to be grateful br (in this respect) that I was not born br into a tradition where it is laid down br what each hand can do. It could have been br condemned to a lifetime br of bottom-wiping and not much else, br and becoming cack- br handed in more ways than one.