Being tall can be hazardous

A trait I normally take pride in, my height, can also be a hazard. As my 6’5″ frame sits here typing, I have a bruised forehead. Why, you ask? As I filled a bucket with water and gingerly watched my footing as I walked from the hose, I ran smack into a ceramic bird house hanging from a tree limb. The impact was like a quick jab from a boxer. Ouch.

One of my tall sons was visiting, so I told him he almost found me lying on the grass, although I just staggered when I ran into the gosh darn thing. He reminded me of one of his college visits which found most of our family in an Italian restaurant in Poughkeepsie on a very rainy night. As we were leaving, both he and I hit our heads on the sloping ceiling near the door. At 6’3″, he also has to watch his head.

Which led to the telling of another story about one of the visits my wife and I had to the Grove Park Inn in Asheville, NC (a must see). On this visit, we stayed in the older section of the hotel riding the elevator up in a stone shaft. As we checked into the room, my wife motioned me over to the window to see the view. Well, the ceiling sloped toward the window, so when I walked over to look down, boom, another headache.

But, I was not done with that room. It had a step up into the bathroom. So, as I stepped down to get back in the bedroom, boom, another headache. Surprisingly, I did not leave with a concussion. Just a sore head and a smiling wife at her husband’s survival of head injuries.

However, the worst crash occurred while I went to college in downtown Atlanta. Walking in an above ground garage into a setting sun, I walked straight into a diagonal I-beam as I neared my car. It caught me right across the forehead. I staggered backwards as if Muhammad Ali had just stung me like a bee. I did not fall down, but it would not have been a surprise if I did.

So, being tall is nice, but it does have some hazards. As my wife would say, thank goodness I am hard-headed.

14 thoughts on “Being tall can be hazardous

  1. Note to Readers: I used to work with a guy who played basketball in the ABA (which merged with the NBA in the mid-1970s). Bob is 6’9″ tall. One day he walked into these smaller inner-offices where one of our senior administrative assistants worked. The door frame was about 6’7″ and he cold cocked himself. Not to be outdone, I once stood on my toes to see if she was in the office as I entered and hit the top of my head. Maybe I should have worn the helmet at work that Jill recommended.

  2. Wow. 6.5. You are a long, tall, drink of water! Having lived with/around tall men, I recognize how we shorter folks can make their lives a living hell, from hanging baskets to how we organize the fridge! I always wanted to be taller than I am, but I wouldn’t not appreciate all those head banging incidents.

    • Linda, I have been called a variety of nicknames over the years:
      – Wilt the Stilt
      – Stick
      – High Pockets
      – Tree
      – Big Tall Guy

      Hanging plants are a torment. Have a great rest of your weekend. Keith

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