It seemed to me the anonymous list maker missed a biggee, however. There is one thing that I see nowadays that is getting scarcer than a respected politician. No, it’s not faith in our institutions (that’s for another rant) but the humble handshake.
There was a time everyone shook hands. It was almost as popular as smoking. It was used in greeting and when departing, as a means of relaying both convivial congratulations and shared sorrow. It was REALLY popular with drunk guys, too, along with the phrase, “I love you, man.” The handshake was as pervasive as fedoras in the ‘50’s. There was none of this fist pounding stuff or the new elbow bump. Elbow bumping? Give me a break! We may as well wave from across the street. And for what? You’re as likely to catch something from a handshake as you are from a door knob or money or any of the myriad things we touch that others have touched.
If the threat of microbial invasion is as bad as those that make money off it claim, it is amazing the human race managed to survive through their multi-millennia handshaking phase until the use of hand sanitizers became more popular than, well, smoking. We must be a healthy society, indeed! But there are those that would have us believe we are walking bundles of bacteria. Well, we are, but the bacteria aren’t all bad. We’d die without bacteria in our systems. We need them as much as we need pizza and liquorice allsorts. Maybe more.
According to that universally trusted infotainment source, Wikipedia, historians believe handshaking has been with us since at least the second century BC... apparently before bacteria were invented. It has been used as a gesture of goodwill that, even we emotionally repressed males, are allowed to engage in with each other. This is why it is so popular to do after sporting events to demonstrate good sportsmanship, and is second only to fanny patting in communicating a hearty ‘attaboy’.
Recently, pressing the flesh has been banned in the most surprising places; kids’ soccer leagues, some churches, even at the Olympics. I was saddened by this turn of events. The handshake in church is one of my favourite parts. (I’m not a big offering fan.) And what better way to leave competitive aggression in sporting venues than with a hearty handshake? I confess I do support the ban for hockey players shaking hands, though. I mean... have you ever smelled a hockey glove? Do you really want to come in contact with that?
There’s a lot of communication in a handshake. It’s like a short, private, intense conversation. That’s why folks are selective about who they clasp with, unless of course they are politicians trying to get elected. Apparently, they will shake anyone down, especially after they win.
There is finesse to handshaking, too. It’s much more complicated than it may seem. You have to come in just so, feeling for that taut flap of skin at the base of the V created by thumb and forefinger (T&FV) on your T&FV. If you clamp earlier than full T&FV contact, you end up grasping the other person’s fingers in a squishy, unsatisfying, uncomfortable moment. If you come in too hard, you might break the other person’s thumb, which can also be socially uncomfortable. A firm, solid grip with a vigorous pump action is the goal but some carry the whole ‘firm’ thing too far. They see a handshake as a contest of strength instead of the genteel greeting it was intended to be and try to crush every carpus in your hand. Still, I’d rather have one of the ‘help, my hand’s caught in the car door’ type shakes than one that’s limper than soggy Sapporo Ichiban. Those ones are unsettling, like you feel you have accidently grabbed somebody’s prosthetic rubber arm.
I will miss the handshake. It’s a sign we’re all retreating into our own little tidy, self-contained units of humanity, enjoying music on our personal stereos, watching movies on our personal DVD players and texting our conversations without talking.
Despite this zest for isolation, studies have proven we need to be touched or we die. (The nice kind of touching, not the icky weird Uncle Naughtypants variety.) I believe we should take no chances and never pass up an opportunity to be touched. Paris Hilton could be the poster girl. Sadly, some, and not just the homeless and the homely, never get touched by anybody. To them, even a simple handshake would make all the difference. But it’s too late. Handshaking is now looked upon as a personal space invasion. The general public recoil at the thought of clasping hands in friendship.
And we are poorer for it.
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