As if I didn’t have enough to contend with, my mouse has gone weird. Just like the mouse in the song it’s going clip clippety-clop all over the place; if I want to click on something it zigzags all over the page and then circles it like a drunken man trying to fix his gaze on the arresting officer. (Speaking of which, a government spokesman today said that a refusal to wear masks should be as taboo as drunk driving. Good idea – trouble is, that taboo took years to form: when I was young drunk driving was seen as a sort of occupational hazard and even decades later it was acceptable to drive after ‘a few ales’ as Withnail hopefully said to the constable who stopped him. But I digress.) The mouse is Well Out of Order, which is a bit of a bummer because it’s not just any old mouse but a wireless, left-handed mouse which, since I am left-handed in mice, is a real boon.
I probably should explain my handedness, insofar as I understand it. It was clear from an early age that I was left-handed in writing. I was lucky enough to be born in a more enlightened age and so escape the scourge of being forced into right-handedness (why this persecution of the left hand, to the extent of calling it sinister? I could probably write reams about that – with my left-hand…) The effects of this are vividly shown in The King’s Speech, where his stammer is largely attributable to being forced to write with the right hand. But what was not so clear to me was that, though generally right-handed, I am left-handed in things other than writing. A book, for example, feels quite wrong if held in my right hand. Then again, a mug nestles there quite neatly. It’s weird.
But to return to the rodent world – why, you may ask, since I’m having such trouble with my mouse, do I not use another? Like most houses this one is overrun with e-rodents in various forms but alas! most of them are wired and are either defunct or the wires don’t stretch from the USB to my left hand. Plus, they are right-handed mice and so not designed for me. The buttons are all wrong whereas the left-handed mouse is perfectly adapted to the shape of my hand: I fit it like a glove. I guess I could give in and buy another left-handed mouse but I’m trying to reduce the number of my possessions, not increase them, so I’d quite like to make it work. Maybe if I could find some e-cheese? Pep it up a bit?
In other news I enjoyed last night the televised version of the making of Alan Bennett’s diaries, Keeping On Keeping On. They are full of reminiscence, political fury and – sadly – opera, but my favourite anecdote is one where someone approaches him at a train station and asks if he’s famous. Self-deprecating to the end, Bennett says ‘You could say so.’ The young man, failing to identify him, asks if he’s ‘a lookalike.’ Bennett agrees that this might be the case, whereupon the young man pats him on the arm and says ‘Be content with that,’ before melting into the crowd.
A refreshing lack of ego on Alan’s part, I’m sure you’ll agree.
I’m off now to give my mouse a stern talking to. I don’t know where you buy e-cheese – I may have to resort to Amazon.
Kirk out
Sarada Gray 