Blog

Height Shaming: One Man’s Personal Struggle In America’s Next…

Our society continues to make progress on various forms of discrimination, but the more minorities, women and gays make progress towards full equality in our society the more we expose the real core of America’s discrimination: shaming.    Whether it’s using new slurs like “tranny” or “midget” or shaming sluts or bullying people we are seeing the real problem with America.  Sure gays are still being deprived civil rights in a majority of the country, women  on college campuses are being sexually assaulted in alarming numbers and the voting and civil rights of minorities are under attack and it is good we are working towards fixing these things, but these are just the tip of the iceberg.   How can we worry about rape of young women when we live in a rape culture where filth like Maleficent can be made in Hollywood??!!   Well after discussing with my family and doing some soul searching I have decided to go public with my experiences dealing with the scourge of height shaming.

Being asked on a daily basis by strangers “How tall are you?” and “Do you play basketball”  has made me afraid to go in public, to say nothing of the disappointed and hostile looks I receive when I reveal to these same strangers that I am not a professional basketball player.  It is as if I have been tattooed with a scarlet N (for Not a basketball player).  Shows like Curb Your Enthusiasm have made me feel ashamed to feel comfortable on the taller handicapped toilets.  Extra space on public transit seats labeled “handicapped” have provided me with needed comfort, but also a shameful feeling when I refuse to give up the seat to a person in a “wheelchair.”  I am now so not handicapped that I am closer to the handicapped community than the “regular” community as they call themselves.  And this is to say nothing of the shameful display I saw at the Guinness’Book of World Records Museum in San Antonio that I had to endure in Summer of 2013.  Greeting visitors at the entrance of the museum is a mechanical representation of the Rosa Parks of the anti-height shaming struggle, Robert Waldlow, the tallest man ever to live.  He grew to 8’11 1/2″ (he died at 24 due to a pituitary condition, denying the heighted community of its first 9 foot leader since Goliath).  And do we honor this man’s struggle and fight? No we have tourists take pictures with his likeness.  This is like if the Washington Redskins not only kept their name, but had fans take pictures with dead Native Americans during the game.

I have been soldiering on in this height-shaming society (remember when we used to brag about how tall people made more money and how the tallest candidate always won the presidency?  Now we choose to ignore the height community’s contributions to society and talk instead about how other people make less and how we need a short woman to be president, not to mention the harsh criticism our society has given Lebron James ever since he said he was taking his height to South Beach), but yesterday it became clear that shutting our collective mouth is not working.  In order to fit on to my Jet Blue flight to Los Angeles yesterday I had to purchase their “even more leg room” seats, which might as well be labeled “Freak Assigned Seating.”  It was an additional $80!!!  Now it did allow me to skip a large part of the security line and board the plane first, but everyone knew this was just a way for all the “regulars” to more easily target us.

Now if I was fat(ter) I might have to buy two seats because my girth would be a personal choice and the media would rally behind me with a series of posts about how I was being fat-shamed.  But no one is speaking up for my legs, whose length is solely based on genetics, needing to buy extra space just to feel normal like everyone else’s legs.  How many times can I limp off planes for being cramped in a “regular” seat or endure dirty looks from people sitting in front of me feeling my knees digging into their back?  So, perhaps as payback for our earning power over comparable “regulars” we are now being forced to pay additional fees just to feel normal.

Today I ask that you join me in stopping this.  The height community deserves to use handicapped seats and bathrooms without stigma and we deserve to get extra leg room at no extra cost.   Most importantly we should be allowed to live in peace without being asked our height and career with scornful looks by complete strangers on a daily basis.  They are coming for the tall and if we do nothing well then you know how that slippery slope goes. So please help change happen by tweeting #WeStandWithTheTall

For more opinions, comedy and bridge burning check out the Righteous Prick Podcast on Podomatic, iTunes and NOW on STITCHER. New Every Tuesday so subscribe on one or more platforms today – all for free!

Blog

Chicago Trip – Part 1

On Tuesday I departed JFK on Jet Blue for a 6 day stint in Chicago.  The trip got off to an inauspicious start when the pilot came out to address the passengers in person before the flight.  Here is basically what he said:

(grim face) Hey everyone – we’re getting set to take off soon and I need to let you know that it is going to be pretty bumpy up there, not just taking off, but basically the whole way to Chicago.  We are passing through a pretty bad storm and the weather in Chicago sucks ass and to the tall fu*k in seat 4B who decided that he would leave his parka at home and just bring a thin jacket because it looked less bulky and would be more comfortable – you are an idiot and you should listen to your mother.”

And the pilot was not lying – the flight was moderate to heavy turbulence for about 100 of the 130 minutes of the flight.  As someone who pees a fraction of an ounce every time a plane hits a bump it was a tough flight, but about halfway through I think my system just overcame my brain and said, “you cannot physically sustain this much pussy-ness for the whole two hours so just relax and read your Adam Carolla book (great read by the way – “In Fifty Years We’ll All Be Chicks”).

So I arrived in Chicago with just over 10 hours to spare so I wandered the city, looking like either a terrorist or a homeless person, but I scared no one as much as I did the parents at the 420 pm show of Tangled at the AMC Theater off of Michigan Avenue.

I am a movie buff, some might say I have a “problem,” but those people suck.  I also really enjoy animated movies.  Some might call me “immature” but those people suck.  But it dawned on me that I am not just a “sir” or a “man” or a “sexual deviant” to small children, but to the entire world now.  I may look slightly young for 31 (I can pull of 26 to some drunk girls), but I certainly don’t look 19.  And the worried looks from the parents who saw a guy the size of an NFL defensive end plop down in front of them wearing 3-D glasses to see a princess with long hair sing about how her life sucks may have been justified.  In any case, great movie and for the record – I was masturbating to the hot, evil step mom in Tangled, not to any of the theater patrons.

So after catching pneumonia during the day in Chicago it was finally time for shows.  Here’s my review of my performances and the Chicago crowds Tuesday and Wednesday nights:

TUESDAY

Packed house.  My first joke – a bit about big and tall stores started strongly, but faded quickly.  My entire set was a masterwork in getting an audience to laugh and then giving them an opportunity to show what great people they think they are as the “awwwwwww”‘d several of my jokes.  I believe a decent amount of the awwwww’s came from women under the age of 27, who anyone knows, are the worst people on Earth.   So they let me know that they did not approve of my humor every other joke.  I would give myself a B, but the crowd a C-.  But weirdly enough, after the show I was getting a lot of enthusiastic praise from most of the people there.  Weird.  Lots of people took my cards, none were found on the ground outside and one guy even tweeted that people should go see me.

Sidenote – I did not “retweet” this tweet, because I believe people who retweet compliments so their followers can see that someone complimented them are narcissistic, even for Twitter, and should be hit in the face with a shovel repeatedly.  Seriously.

WEDNESDAY

Smaller crowd, twice the laughter from Tuesday.  This crowd was the opposite of Tuesday – show was amazing and I give myself an A and the crowd an A- (a little chatter from… you guessed it – a table of chicks under 27, stopped them from getting the 4.0).  The set went well, I could not even do all the jokes I wanted because there was more laughter than anticipated.  Great feeling.  And then after the show it all went to sh*t.

Some people were complimenting me – felt good, but then three things occurred that just left me feeling weird and wishing I had gone to teach high school right after college:

  1. Several people asking me “how tall are you?” after a show.  I don’t mind the callback to my joke – it is a nice compliment that you liked or at least re-called one of my jokes.  So thank you.  But please don’t give me a look like you want me to laugh super hard at a joke I wrote and have told 500 times.
  2. A woman shook my hand and said, “You were hysterical” so I handed her one of my cards with all my on-line content links on it (they are really nice – shout out to Steve Axworthy of Worthy Concepts Inc.) and she took it, walked two steps and then walked back and said, “To be perfectly honest, I will probably just throw this on the ground outside.”   Perfectly honest would be, “Im going to throw this out so don’t waste it.”  Being perfectly cu*ty is saying you will throw it on the ground.  Even in hypothetical situations you can’t have manners or decency – you both disrespect me and litter in your imagination?
  3. Last group of people leaving the show were a group of women in their mid 40s to mid 50s.  The first 5 said, good job, really funny, etc.  Then the last one walks up to me and says nothing about the show.  She asks, “have you been tested for (name of disease I cannot remember)?”  You have long legs and long arms and are very big and it affects men, like that basketball player who died (not sure who she meant)?  You should really be tested for it.”  And then she left, without comment on the show.

So I finally ended a show with the will to live restored only to have some lady from Chicago tell me I’m going to die anyway.

Shows and adventures continue tonight at 930pm at Zanies.