A quick red fox jumped over the lazy brown dog. I like to eat pecan pie, oranges, pasta and guacamole.
I scribbled the above sentences last night on an unlined, blank white piece of paper as part of a lecture on handwriting analysis. My penmanship leaves a lot to be desired. I print and my signature has become more of a scrawl. I've always appreciated the field as a science and give it its due credibility. But if there were any doubts among the 30 or so gathered, they were quickly dismissed after the samples were analyzed.
Looking around the room as the lecturer highlighted areas (stem size, pressure, angle, dots above i's, how t's are crossed) to analyze in individual samples it was easy to pick out whose handwriting she held in her hand. Some would bow their head while taking better notes and others would nudge their spouse in the adjacent chair.
Equally enjoyable was when an area of analysis was discussed and the lecturer posed a question to the crowd. All of a sudden everyone was an expert. Loopy stems meant someone was arrogant to some in attendance. Shortly after that suggestion someone would perk up and contest the assertion. Likely the person who supplied that sample.
When discussing pen pressure the expert of the pen had picked up my piece of paper as an example along with a few others. As she looked at it in her vast wisdom, she commented that the person was very intelligent and was probably a very good student. It was at this exact moment that I confirmed she was a sage.
After the 90 minute lecture, I went to thank the woman for her time and sharing her expertise and to get a bit more flattery. Can we ever really have enough? Even though handwriting analysis is a science, it felt as though a psychic was reading your fortune. Upon further review she said that I'm analytical, a good manager, very good at explaining technical things to others, older/more mature than my age, caring and "have a bright future" ahead of me. She left out humble.
All this from a simple sentence about a fleet fox.
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