I’m getting ready to do my fatherly duty and visit my sons school as an addendum to their “rocks and soil” chapter. I’m no stranger to the podium and PowerPoint, and I like talking to a room full of people, but 8 year olds are not really people, they are Monsters, miniature monsters who attack in packs. What a typical 8 year old lacks in attention span he makes up for in enthusiasm and a dire need to somehow relate what they are seeing back to themselves, especially things they perceive as novel. This is good stuff since the rocks I’m gonna show them run the gamut from Dinosaur digestive (gastrolith) through semi precious gemstones, and if the kids would be focused on it, there is a solid win. However, judging from my encounters with my sons friends, and my experiences last time I did this talk, the kids will be focused on me. Not what I’m saying or what I’m showing them, me, or rather my stature….
It starts with a wide eyed kid saying “wow your tall.” Then “do you play basketball?” By the time I get the word “no” out of my mouth it’s all over, I’m getting 25 kids trying to ask me, tell me, show me, something about being tall.
Associative: My dad’s tall too, do you know him?
Dis-associative: Your not the tallest guy in the world, you know, Shak is taller than you!
Demonstrative: Look when I stand on this desk I’m as tall as you are.
Dismissive: Your not that tall
Assertive: Wow, I know you play ball, you have to sign my notebook
As people grow up and mature they learn to repress the urge to ask the same questions….but I know they are still wondering, waiting for the right moment. How do I know? Because the moment happens often, usually at a bar after the third round of drinks. “Damn Jim, you’re like the size of Sasquatch!” A simple statement, some nervous laughter and after they realize I’m not pissed they feel better, and the rest of the folks around feel better. You can feel the mood relax a little as if they are all thinking “Wow it’s out there thank god someone said something!” I get a kick out of it all because it’s not like I’m trying to hide my size, I don’t walk around stooped low, or seek out shoes with the thinnest sole. Sometimes in the bar it goes the other way, some smallish drunk guy walks up to me and says “you know, you’re not the tallest guy in the world!” Damn and I was so hoping for the title with my active campaign and letter to Guinness and all….It doesn’t work that way. Short guys try to be taller, tall guys don’t want to be taller.
I guess there is a certain curiosity in what it is like to be in someone else’s shoes. We all wonder what it would be like to be rich or famous or have a certain skill…..for those of you wondering what it is like to be tall read on, for those of you who are tall maybe you can add the ones I missed below as comments, and for those of you who think your normal, guess again.
True Story: Airplane
Walking down the aisle, dunking my head, I can read the fear in fellow passengers face, “please don’t sit near me.” As I approach my seat, a smallish old lady taps me on the arm and says “can you be a dear and put this in the overhead for me? I just can’t reach.” I put the bag in the bin and sit down behind her. Once we reach cruising altitude she tries to recline her seat and runs into my knees. In a huff she turns around “could you move your knees out of my back!?” My reply, “No, I can’t”. She then tries to ram me out of the way. “Miss, I am physically unable to move my knees” She tried ramming again, this time I nailed the back of her seat with hand…..she got the point.
People love having a big guy around to help move things or for the security, but forget the cost. There was a time that might made right. Not anymore, people know I have to behave in a generally civilized manor, so many of the advantages of might have dwindled. As much as I want too, and indeed as much as I could, society demands that I refrain from “Hulking Out” on the diminutive masses. Which of course is a shame.
Second True Story: Get Back!
Like most people I like to sit near the front of Theaters, class rooms, concerts, and the like. The view is better, you can hear more, and generally you are closer to the door. Teachers would take one look at me and ask that I move to the back so others can see. I have been asked at theaters to move seats and I was accosted by an old British fart for blocking his view at Disney.
Why should I impede my view by moving back, allowing someone else a better view by moving forward? It’s not like my eyes and ears are any better than anyone else. What’s in it for me? Where is the Quid Pro Quo, can I say “hey your shorter than me, pick up the pencil.” I could but you might stab me with it.
And Then Some……..
Not to take anything away from ADA compliance, or to minimize handicapped folks in the least, but where are my special considerations in the public spaces? I’m not asking for a parking space, but I think sidewalks should have overhanging vegetation cleared to 7 feet, and street signs as well. Yes I have hit my head while crossing the street and landed on my ass in the cross walk. Would be better for everyone if a few larger sport stadium seats were reserved for the 2 percent of the planet over 6’5”.
“Hi bring me everything you have in a 54 Tall, 37 inch arm and a 14 shoe. No, not the velour zipper front jump suit, and the pink alligator shoes can go. Thanks I’ll look someplace else.” Really there are entire malls that have nothing in them for me to wear. Too bad I can’t get away with wearing Cabalas Real Tree Camo to an office meeting….that’s one store which can dress folks of stature. (This fact alone might explain why Yeti’s are so hard to find……)
Get out of the way, just because you can only see the head in front of you doesn’t give you license to walk like a drunk sailor meandering about. Let’s move people, I can see where I want to go and to me your all just walking speed bumps. Oh yeah, and you, the balding guy with the weave….I can see it, you’re not fooling me, in fact the glare hurts.
For me the trouble isn’t getting noticed, I know people see me. The trouble is getting noticed for the right things, at the right time. Being tall does have its advantages….my prom date could wear the highest heals, I have never felt nervous walking alone, and frankly there is a certain bit of pleasure watching people jump a bit when I say “excuse me” from behind them. But there are downsides. I don’t shop for clothing, I don’t fit in a standard office chair or under a standard desk, and I will continue to have to kneel to rinse my hair in hotel showers.
It is good to be tall, chicks dig it, but not as good as you think. I wouldn’t trade it for the world some days and others I would gladly chop off a few inches if possible. It’s likely my sons will top off at about 6’2” which is tall enough to stand out, but still fit in coach, or buy a mid sized car. Maybe by the time they are grown things will be a bit bigger in general, the world is getting taller. Until then I have to wonder, if it’s the big guys responsibility to look out for the little guy, how come the little guys doesn’t have to make way for the big guy? And no, for the 1 millionth time, I do not play Basketball; do you play miniature golf? (thanks Minn)
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