Beginning to think the moaning and groaning from my left foot has something to do with the ancient cardinal sin of vainglory. It is true the right foot does get more gentle treatment, some years ago it struggled a little following an incident that involved a somersault, a plaster wall and a staircase, and it's been pretty much living like a princess ever since. The more manly burdens have therefore fallen to the left foot, and in a way I can understand the resentment, it's an unexpected and rather sudden responsibility for the left foot with little reward, less recognition. And here it could well be my fault, I should make more effort to put the left sock on before the right sock. Tie the left shoelace first. It's the little things I suppose.
But at the same time the left side of my body has always been prone to what I
suppose is some kind of sibling rivalry that can verge upon open revolt, a sense
that somehow the left side got a raw deal because there are things it has never
been able to do as well as the right side. It's also the case that my left
side is an uneasy collective, it tends to feed upon itself. If it's not the
foot, it's the knee, the arm, the ear or the wing. Kind of like what I believe
is called the Alt-Right in our current political spectrum, where the trendy
thing to do is constantly compete for attention by doing the functional
equivalent of running around naked in the public square performing unnatural or
lewd acts for Likes on Face book.