• When you click on links to various merchants on this site and make a purchase, this can result in this site earning a commission. Affiliate programs and affiliations include, but are not limited to, the eBay Partner Network.

The famous left handed guitarist

I've been playing guitar for almost 60 years and have long said that since the beginning they got it wrong. Imo right handers should use that hand on the fret board since thats the harder task than strumming or finger picking. Of course the same would be true for lefties. I never tried to switch to prove a point, but when my lefty son wanted to learn playing I gave him that suggestion. He said " No Way " Left handed guitar players get more chicks. Facts beat theory every time.
 
Not really possible to know with those pictures. What was written about it? Was he forced to learn to write right handed or do other things right handed? If so there is no way to prove it.
It wasn't uncommon for teachers to force right handed writing. They did with me and one of my relatives. Both wrote right handed and could write left if necessary. Things like shotguns or sports where the dominant eye helps. Those we went left on. I seen people draw on one side of the page right and the other left. Same with a chalk board if lines are being drawn.
Many lefties are pretty balanced (ambidextrous).
I feel a story coming on!

Of us 4 kids, 3 were/are lefties. Mama was lefty as well.
When we went to school, they still did try to "correct" left-handed kids to write right-handed.
Thing is, none of us wrote in the more conventional method for lefties i.e., "upside-down".
We all wrote such that we didn't smear what we had just written...

My father was the righty and never said a word to us about being left-handed.
In fact, one of the biggest scares I ever got in elementary school, I still remember vividly to this day...
Pop worked downtown and never, I mean never, came out of work during the day.
If there was some need at home or school during the day, mama was expected to handle it.
(Of course, we were all good kids, so nothing much ever came up anyways - we feared for our lives
if we ever misbehaved, after all!)


One day, as I was headed to lunch with my class down the main hallway of the school, another kid
comes running up to me and says "YOUR DAD IS HERE!"
I was like "wut?"
Then another friend ran up saying the same thing....and I felt the chill from hell go up my spine,
figuring it HAD to have been something I'd done, right?
Pop NEVER came out of work.... yet here he came, headed right at me in front of everyone and God!
I winced in pre-whippin' mode and awaited my fate...
He gets to me, leans over and says...
"I'm not here for you boy, go about your business".
You coulda pushed me over with a feather. I damn near needed resuscitating.
Pop heads on into the school main office with that look of "somebody's gettin' a whippin'" on his face...

I found out later that he was there to have some school admin *** over my sister.
She is a year older than me, always the perfect little angel and student...and left-handed, too.
Seems her teacher had been forcing her, in sixth grade, to try to write right-handed, to the point of
being a damn bully about it "for her own good".
Pop had tried to let mama handle things, but there was no diplomatic solution...so in came the nuclear
alternative in the person of my dad, who promptly (figuratively) laid waste to all in his path that day.
Whatever he did worked; there was never a mention of her having to write right-handed again.
Not only that, but as the red-headed demon little brother of her that had to follow her angelic arse
the next year with the same dang teacher, I never heard a peep about being left-handed, either.

When this story would come up in conversation, even decades later, Pop would always silently smile
and acknowledge the event, but steadfastly refused to ever tell us what happened in the school office
that day.
He was a quiet, hard-working, fair but firm man - but on the rare occasion anyone got him mad, you
didn't want to be in the same zip code with him.
For that I can be a perfect witness. :thumbsup:
 
I feel a story coming on!

Of us 4 kids, 3 were/are lefties. Mama was lefty as well.
When we went to school, they still did try to "correct" left-handed kids to write right-handed.
Thing is, none of us wrote in the more conventional method for lefties i.e., "upside-down".
We all wrote such that we didn't smear what we had just written...

My father was the righty and never said a word to us about being left-handed.
In fact, one of the biggest scares I ever got in elementary school, I still remember vividly to this day...
Pop worked downtown and never, I mean never, came out of work during the day.
If there was some need at home or school during the day, mama was expected to handle it.
(Of course, we were all good kids, so nothing much ever came up anyways - we feared for our lives
if we ever misbehaved, after all!)


One day, as I was headed to lunch with my class down the main hallway of the school, another kid
comes running up to me and says "YOUR DAD IS HERE!"
I was like "wut?"
Then another friend ran up saying the same thing....and I felt the chill from hell go up my spine,
figuring it HAD to have been something I'd done, right?
Pop NEVER came out of work.... yet here he came, headed right at me in front of everyone and God!
I winced in pre-whippin' mode and awaited my fate...
He gets to me, leans over and says...
"I'm not here for you boy, go about your business".
You coulda pushed me over with a feather. I damn near needed resuscitating.
Pop heads on into the school main office with that look of "somebody's gettin' a whippin'" on his face...

I found out later that he was there to have some school admin *** over my sister.
She is a year older than me, always the perfect little angel and student...and left-handed, too.
Seems her teacher had been forcing her, in sixth grade, to try to write right-handed, to the point of
being a damn bully about it "for her own good".
Pop had tried to let mama handle things, but there was no diplomatic solution...so in came the nuclear
alternative in the person of my dad, who promptly (figuratively) laid waste to all in his path that day.
Whatever he did worked; there was never a mention of her having to write right-handed again.
Not only that, but as the red-headed demon little brother of her that had to follow her angelic arse
the next year with the same dang teacher, I never heard a peep about being left-handed, either.

When this story would come up in conversation, even decades later, Pop would always silently smile
and acknowledge the event, but steadfastly refused to ever tell us what happened in the school office
that day.
He was a quiet, hard-working, fair but firm man - but on the rare occasion anyone got him mad, you
didn't want to be in the same zip code with him.
For that I can be a perfect witness. :thumbsup:
Your dad should have been an Army Ranger. Just smile, and nod. No need to speak of the mission
 
Auto Transport Service
Back
Top