Short Person's Lament

I have a request: if you are tall, and by tall I mean six foot or so, please don't sit in the front when attending a play, concert, reading, or, for that matter, any event. A calf-roping seminar at the corral? Lean on a post a bit farther away. A Ronco Veg-O-Matic™ demonstration? Pony up on a stool near the back. A tattooing seminar? Okay, maybe you need to get the details on that one. But don't stand in the front at the packed concert! You have choices! 

You can still see no matter where you stand. You can watch the guitar player pick or strum or the lead singer dramatically collapse on his 22-year-old, futurely arthritic, knees.You'd get a look at Hamlet pacing the boards, holding Yorick's skull in hand, no matter where you sat. If you could get tickets, you'd actually see Javier Muñoz as Hamilton.

But me? At five foot four? What I see is how well you wash your neck. I can tell the age of your shirt by how frayed the collar is and I know before your mother does if you’re using an effective stain remover. Of course, if you're bobbing your head to the music, I see the band as though they’re in a flipbook or have turned on a strobe light and transported us all back to 1969. Head down—band visible, head up—your hair. Head down—band visible, head up—your hair again.

To get an idea of what I’m talking about, spring for some courtside seats at a basketball game, the seats right behind the team. Maybe the Cavaliers (Channing Frye, 6’11”, Kevin Love, 6’ 10”) or the Heat (Chris Bosh, 6’11”). That game is what life is like for height-challenged people every day. We’re all like the little kid who can’t see over the table, who keeps jumping up and asking, “What’s going on? No, really, what's going on?”

Here’s a thought—what if tickets were sold by the purchaser’s height? You might actually get a discount because you’re in the back.

And actually, in the first paragraph, I lied.  By tall, I don’t mean six foot or so, I mean taller than me.