For reasons passing understanding I decided recently to measure myself. Lacking a measuring tape, the notion soon fell to the wayside and I continued with my long stated belief that I am 6'1 tall. I always wanted to be 6'2. For me that height held some magical quality, suggested an importance and dignity. All of that is completely preposterous, and I’ll easily admit as much, but all the same the hope of 6'2 has loomed large since I was 13.
While cleaning up my apartment and preparing to move I found a long discarded, and long thought lost tape measurer. A knife sharpened pencil (I don’t have a proper pencil sharpener) placed nearly level at the crown of my head marked the doorframe to my kitchen. I eagerly stretched the tape to its maximum and found my true and honest height. I am and probably have been for years just 6 feet tall. That it bothers me seems silly. But it does. Partly for the lies I’ve unknowingly perpetuated, but also because it suggests I’m not all I thought I was...quite literally. Oh well, I guess now why I sky someone in frisbee I can be more self congratulatory. Afterall everyone else in the world just got one inch taller by comparison. Somewhere I hear Randy Newman penning a ballad just for me: Shorter People Got Less Reason.