When is it Lateralist?

Deciding whether or not a solution or action is a worthy of being called lateralist is either the most exact of sciences, or not really a science at all. More elusive than alchemy, theremin-playing, and even the endless mystery of trying to determine what excuse to offer when you want to call in sick, sometimes lateralism is to quicksilver what quicksilver is to solid rock.

Take names for example. I read some time ago of a women who named her daughter what sounded like "Jodasha" when said aloud. When spelt, it was Jo-A. A noisy hyphen. (Note to self - The Planes must record a song or album called noisy hyphen.)

As unexpected a use of punctuation as this is, it is not lateralist. It just gives a child an embarrassing name. But consider the case of a young man in Germany who badly wanted a personalised number plate, but could not afford one. So determined was he to fulfil his rather sad dream, he changed his name to his existing number plate. His name is now 7X44 2089. (Or some such - like it really matters.)

This is most certainly lateralist, if only because he did it to himself. I have far more respect for him than I do for folks who have "literal" personalised number plates. To me, it makes about as much sense of wearing a name tag in public.

Herewith, it is proposed that folks desiring personalised number-plates must personalised everything they use. I want names (with stupid 3's for e's) on t-shirts, shorts, hats and thongs. I want a dainty label hung from the front of wheelbarrows, lawn-mowers and prams. If it's good enough for the car, it can be good enough for the shopping trolley.

So let us raise a labeled glass to Mr 7. May his sense of identity never waver.