I miss the typewriter

It’s been just over 25 years since I received my doctorate. I remember it very well. An oath to preserve my integrity as a scholar (in Latin), being told that my name was in the second book where all doctorates were recorded (the first ended in 1930s) or the pro-vice-chancellor (in Polish ‘prorektor’) who was complaining that his gown with fur would make him sweat. But what I remember most, is typing my doctorate. On a typewriter. Continue reading “I miss the typewriter”

Gender of the handshake

Ever since I was a child, I’ve been aware of the handshake. As a boy, then a youngster and later I always knew that I had to shake my (male) friends’ hands firmly, perhaps even very firmly. My friends and I knew those ‘strange’ boys and men whose handshake offered a hand with no or very little tension.  Perhaps to a lesser extent but also my female friends looked at such boys with disapproval. But, to be honest, apart from my tacit and unreflected upon knowledge, I hardly ever really thought about it. Continue reading “Gender of the handshake”

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