Contrary to previously-discussed assertions from a woman that men judge each other according to our watches, shoes and belts, one key factor in the way men assess each other is through the way we shake hands.

And it is in this respect I seem to be stumbling and falling down a bit lately.

It is nothing as bad as the most hated of handshakes – the cold, wet fish – in which the hand is simply hung out like a piece on old, wet underwear left on the line to drip dry.

The hand seems to be offered as reluctantly as if you were suffering both leprosy and the bubonic plague, and grasping the wet fish hand comes with no grip, no warmth, and no greeting.

It just feels – well – wrong.

When I am given the cold fish handshake I am always left wondering if as boys they grew up without adult men in their lives, teaching them the way to shake hands like a man.

No, it is nothing as bad as that, but my problem is still very real.

Maybe it is my failing eyesight, or perhaps my timing is off because I am moving a bit more slowly in my old age, but I seem to struggle so often to synchronise the hand shake.

I often seem to go in too early or too late, or even at the wrong angle, and occasionally dig my thumbnail into the other person’s hand – entirely by accident, of course.

Naturally enough that could be entirely my fault, because I tend to hold my thumb at an unusual angle when going in to shake hands – all the result of experiences as a youngster when, if anyone went to shake hands with their thumb sticking straight up like a cricket umpire dismissing a batsman, other boys would grab the offending thumb and twist it.

Other times I just seem to miss the mark and end up gripping half a hand, a few fingers, or even thin air.

This is compounded by the fact my hands are smaller than average, and if I am shaking a large hand my timing has to be spot on or my hand simply disappears in the palm of the other bloke, leaving it gripless and often crushed and in pain.

You see, there is a particular etiquette to shaking hands, and I fear a mistimed handshake will come across in the same way as a limp one, giving the impression of weakness.

And that will never do, after all, handshakes are so common in Australian society, and the social norm dictates that it must be firm, unlike many Asian countries where a weak handshake is preferred, and a knuckle-crusher is deemed to be rude.

But here the handshake is supposed to convey trust, respect, balance, and equality, although I’m not too sure about that, because many men will deem the strength of the handshake to determine dominance or submission.

And I hate to be thought of as submissive, or even a social pariah, simply because my eyesight and timing are not what they used to be.