They arrive at the pub one or two at a time every two or three months and pull up a stool for the think tank that is my group of old classmates, and as they arrive and leave they shake hands with almost everyone there. They reach around the table, and they'll even walk around the table to pump the hand of an unreachable think tanker.
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Now, let's say there are 10 classmates there on this particular day. By the time they've all arrived almost everyone will have shaken hands eight times and by the time they've all left, 16 times, for a total of 144 handshakes.
Almost everyone, because one member of the group does not shake hands.That's me. I say that after 55 years of knowing them I don't need to shake their hand to establish anything, and, what's more, I don't want to shake their hand.
You see, in the 55 years I've known every one of them I've never seen one of them wash his hands.
They say it's a matter of Corbett being Corbett, or Corbett being a goose, again, and these days they extend to me a fist for a fist knocking.
I prefer to greet them with something like "geez are you still the same age as the rest of us?" but I'll do the fist knock as well. To keep the peace.
Perhaps it is more hope than prediction, but I'm crediting COVID-19 with the death of the handshake.
How the worm has turned! And the vindication has been pointed out in a text by our group's administrator to all group members. I'll accept a beer from each by way of apology if they promise not to stick their fingers in it.
The vindication was pointed out early last month, too, in a Short Take by Taree's Ros Hendy, who referred to one of my columns 10 years ago advocating an end to the handshake. Hello and thank you for remembering, Ros.
Perhaps it is more hope than prediction, but I'm crediting COVID-19 with the death of the handshake.
Sure, there'll be plenty of knobs like my classmates who'll rush into the streets looking for hands to shake when we're allowed out, but if I've been joined by enough of the other wise and prescient we'll establish a kind of herd immunity to the handshake.
Indeed, we could have as our patron the fellow who has made an art form of looking silly with proffered hand, Prime Minister Morrison.
So what is my problem with the handshake? Well, it's much the same as yours right now. Like you I don't want the other fellow's viruses, but unlike most of you I don't want his urine, faecal matter, nasal mucous, saliva, bacteria and heaven knows what else either.
The bull elephant in the room when men shake hands is pudenda. Be in no doubt that every man in the room, bar a smattering of left-handed men, has shortly before he proffers his hand groped around with that same hand in his damp underpants to point Percy at the porcelain or the nearest shrub before shoving poor old Perce back into his undies.
The wet patch on his hand is very unlikely to be the result of washing his hands, because the fact is that few men wash their hands after urinating. And the fact that this may be a good thing illustrates the problem. You see, by using the basin tap the fellow is coating his hand, his handshaking hand, in the urine, faecal matter, nasal mucous, saliva, bacteria, viruses and heaven knows what else left by all the other men who'd used that tap.
You wouldn't want him sharing that with you, would you! Nooo.
But when he proffers his unwashed hand he is offering you not just a serve of his own urine, faecal matter, nasal mucous, saliva, bacteria,viruses and heaven knows what else, he is offering also a serve of the urine, faecal matter, nasal mucous, saliva, bacteria, viruses and heaven knows what else of all the other men whose hand he has shaken since he last showered, hopefully that morning.
It's like creating blood brothers.
Maybe the great unwashed could save their hand-pumping energy by depositing a dollop of their body waste, bacteria and viruses into a bowl for all to sample, but we do that already with the bowl of peanuts.
So what will replace the handshake post COVID-19? Right now we have the knocking together of jutting elbows, which has the potential to be even more foolish than Scott Morrison thrusting out his paw to a snarling onlooker. People milling about to knock elbows is too ridiculous to last.
The necking embrace of the tattooed brotherhood is out, as is the air kiss, the hug and the high five. My classmates' fist knocking is probably acceptable among good friends but I'd not be keen to fist knock with Grumpy Trumpy.
I favour the MWAH. You know, the weird sound women make when air kissing.
While women were keen to join the handshaking round robin when they came to resent being left out of the loop, they'll be as keen to leave it now that they realise what they're as good as shaking when they shake a man's hand.
So women can lead the MWAH. No air kiss, of course, but just as men used to grip harder and longer to demonstrate special affection we can now demonstrate the same by following women's lead and doing a bit of squealing before the MWAH.
Or we can say hello.
jeffcorb@gmail.com
letters@newcastleherald.com.au
