Thursday, January 22, 2015

So You Want to be Seven Feet Tall? Think again.

Noticing my height  while we passed each other on the sidewalk, a gregarious lady stopped me today and boldly said, " Sonny! I wish I were that tall!" Does she really? If she only knew, how painfully-difficult it is for a seven-footer, living in an under six-foot world, I believe she would change her mind. So, if by chance you're reading this post, lady, let me explain.

When I stand up, my ears pop.

When in a hotel room bed, I accidentally turned the TV off with my foot.  

In airplane bathrooms, it is impossible to go. Thank Heaven for Flomax. 

I wrestle with the person who is sitting in front of me in airplane, as he tries to recline his seat.

Once I sat in the bulkhead seat and enjoyed stretching my legs into first class. The flight attendant asked for my credit card and charged me. .

In a packed movie theater, the person behind me says, "I'll just get the DVD when it comes out."

When close to an airport, I am required by law to wear a cap with a blinking light.

My shoes cover two zip codes. 

For rent-a-cars, I have to order one with a sunroof. 

As a youth, we went to the beach and I went in the ocean first. My sister asked my mother, "Can go in too?" She replied, "Not now; Swen's using it."

I'm 290 pounds. When I get on an elevator, it has to go down.

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