A Tall Obsession

It's taken me until 8:00pm to start writing this, which is rather out of character of me. But I really couldn't think of anything to say. It's funny actually because today I found this:

THE RULES OF BLOG EVERY DAY APRIL (BEDA)

1. Blog every day in April. 

THE BLOG EVERY DAY IN APRIL MANIFESTO

I commit to this idea and am determined to create something EVERY DAY in April, including weekends. Every day, I will find something to say. I embrace the reality that there is always something to talk about, if you are willing to take the time to look for it. 

I, Alex McGown, promise to blog every day in April.

In the above Manifesto it says that I will find something to write about every day, because there is always something to be written. A platform to be taken. An opinion to share.

So now that I have officially taken the BEDA oath, I feel the need to write something compelling. Something witty and intriguing. Which is how, sitting at the dinner table, something my mother said brought me to my topic: height!

As a society, we are very obsessed with height. The people in ads, are the people who generally represent us (however poorly they do it) and models are supposed to be tall.

Women wear high heeled shoes, to appear taller (or is there another reason that I'm missing? Because the last time I checked they were dreadfully uncomfortable) and basically we're obsessed with height.

Now, being a tall[ish] person myself I've always thought it strange when people remarked on my height with awe and wonder. Because really, being tall doesn't say anything about you is awesomer then anyone else. Sure, you can reach the top shelf at the grocery store and jump up and hit the ceiling in underground parking garages, but it's nothing to be proud of. It's not like one day I climbed up a huge tower and sat there and watched the world below me, which made me grow inches taller because of my increased perspective on the world. It's nothing as exciting as that. It's just the way I am. I ate my vegetables (most of the time) and here I am. 5'6" (no that's not extraordinarily tall but it's taller than some).

So why are short[er] people jealous at times? Yes, I'm taller than you. Yes, I can see the top of your head. Yes, I keep growing. Do you want an apology? You're not getting one. Just get over it. As I used to say in my younger years:

Cry a river, build a bridge, and get over it. (I was one wise kid, huh?)

And once you have done that you will truly be over it. Because building a bridge is tough stuff. I hear it really builds character. By the time you are finished your bridge I hope you will have moved on from the fact that I am taller than you. It's not that big of a deal. Not trying to minimise your sufferings or anything, but if you have a better explanation for your whining, now would be the time to speak up... I didn't think so.

Another unusually characteristic of this particular blog is that I'm going to end it right here. I'm not going to dig deeper for another topic, or prattle on about something meaningless. As a wise young blogger quoted a few days ago: quality, not quantity. I realize that I have been focusing on the length of my blogs a bit more, but I'm letting that go now. If this is all I have to say, I'm not going to bemoan that fact. I'm going to accept it. This is me accepting it.