The View is Fine

Last night Barb asked me how much I weighed when I was born.

"Oh, I don't know," I answered. "Just shy of nine-pounds I think.

She made an excruciatingly painful face.

Well I was all head, I told her. I was born with one big, gigantic, fat, pumpkin head.

Most kids had to grow into their baby fat. I had to grow into my big giant head.

Barb started laughing hysterically.

"Sorry," she said, "I was just imagining you learning to crawl or walk and you keep tipping over because of your giant head."

I like being tall. I always have liked being tall. It has its advantages. And, of course it has its pitfalls.

When I played basketball in high school, for away games our team would be set-up in the women's locker room. Well in the women's locker room the shower heads only come up to about my chest.

I do have to buy at least extra-large size shirts so that the shirt will have enough length, even though width wise that usually means I'm swimming in it a little.

People have come up to me already in crowd situations and have asked me if I can find their friends in the crowd.

Once I was out at a crowded club, and I overheard one girl give her friend directions to the bathroom using me as a landmark. I was quite flattered to be a human landmark.

One gentleman I used to work with taught his eldest son to call me "Uncle Tree."

I guess I cast a long shadow.

Being tall does not mean you're tough or strong. It just means you have longer to fall. But there is an intimidation factor that does come with being tall.

I'll never forget being at a party my friends were throwing once. One invited guest had too much to drink and was beginning to become aggressive and destructive. They decided to all grab him and lead him out the door.

Three of my friends jumped on him and somehow steered him outside. There was no sense of confidence in me that this was going to turn out real well. So against my better judgement I said, "I better go see how this is going."

I walked outside to see the drunk bent over like an angry bear with my three friends all hanging off of his back. The drunken angry bear looked up at me, stopped shaking my friends about, and said, "Oh, OK, send the big guy out."

I looked around. What big guy? Oh! Me!

He agreed to sleep it off in his car. Whew, I thought to myself, that guy could have snapped me in two.

Until I bought the FJ Cruiser I never had head room in a car. My head always pressed right against the roof lining.

And planes? Yeah right. I can't afford first class seating and let me tell you those coach seats are not built for people my size. I press into the seat once before take-off and squeeze out after landing, checking how bruised my knees got along the way from the person in front of me smashing their seat into me.

But I like it. The view is great from up here.

Over Christmas we hang our cards along some crown molding between two living areas. Alyssa was looking at the cards when she turned around and asked, "How did you get those up there?"

I walked over and reached up, "Which one do you want to see?"