Today, something magical happened. Something made my day today and left a lasting impression on me.
Standing at 6’6 (many argue that I’m actually 6’7, but I’m pretty humble, so I’d rather underestimate than overestimate it), few people in this world are taller than me.
I’m in the 99th percentile and have been there my whole life with the rest of the “99 crew,” as we like to call ourselves. The main difficulty that I deal with regularly (aside from hitting my head 5 times a day on door jambs), is the fact that I can NEVER find someone taller than me who is willing to hug me.
You all take this for granted without even realizing it.
100% of my daily readers are shorter than me. That’s a fact. If any of you want a hug from someone taller than me, you can just shoot me an email—I’ll be right there. I, on the other hand, need to seek out NBA All-Stars to find possible candidates.
Yesterday, at my cousin’s wedding (congratulations, Katie!), there was a guest there by the name of Tom. Tom stands at 7’2, a full 7 or 8 inches taller than I am.
Oh, my goodness! This was my chance.
Every time I’ve asked people in the past who were taller than me for hugs, I’ve gotten nothing more than, “What? Who are you? Stay away from me and my family…” Now, I had the chance to ask for a hug, and considering Tom is 7’2, he’d be able to successfully envelop me if he agreed.
I walked over to him apprehensively, not sure what kind of reaction my request would garner.
“Hey, man. I know we don’t know each other, but I haven’t hugged someone taller than me in 3 years. Do me this solid?”
He takes one look at me.
“Yeah, man. Let’s do this thing.”
He opens his arms.
My heart melts with joy. I fall into his arms, allowing myself to forget all the horrors of this world. Every care slips away as I disappear into Tom’s arms.
I don’t let go. I’ll never let go first. How many chances like this am I going to get? This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.
He lets go after about 5 seconds.
“Hey, man. I appreciate it. This made my year. Really.”
“Hey, my pleasure man. Want me to pick you up?”
My heart soars once again.
“I… would… LOVE… that. Yes. Yes. Yes.”
He stretches his arms out and goes for another hug.
He puts his arms under mine and hoists me in the air.
My feet lifelessly dangle from a solid 12 inches off the ground as he hugs me again.
“Ahhhh, so this is what it’s like to be 7’2.”
10 seconds later, he puts me back down on the ground. He gives me one last “ground-hug” I thank him again, bidding each other farewell.
“Thank you so much, man.”
“No worries, man. Take care.”
What a freaking cool guy!
You see, the pressures of being tall do exist. If I’m with friends and somebody comes up to us trying to start something, I’m the one who needs to intervene. If somebody starts a fight at a ballgame, I’m the one that people expect to jump in and end it. If someone has a heart attack on the train, I’m the one people expect to jump in and take charge, even though I’m certainly not medically-qualified. If somebody pulls a knife in the local bodega one night, bystanders look to me to confront the knife-wielding maniac. I’m not a doctor; I’m not a martial arts master; I’m just tall.
I’d rather be tall than be short though, so I suppose I’m lucky. That being said, it doesn’t come without its fair share of difficulties. Appreciate what you have, because the grass is always greener on the other side, friends.
Until next time,
Michael J. Erickson, CEO & Co-Founder
