"Dust the refrigerator yourself if it bugs you so much. Nobody else can see it."

People I don't know make comments about it as I pass on the sidewalk. New acquaintances generally assume their "witty" comment will be a welcome change from the usual small talk opener they usually inflict on strangers. I've heard them all before, about basketball, the weather up there, or the rather bald "You're tall!" Apparently, my exact measure should be a matter of public record, and people I've never met will demand to know my exact height. Asking their weight in return is usually not well received.

There is an assumption among most people that their life would be better if only they were a few inches taller. And generally, if a little is good, lots must be better, so I must be super pumped all the time about having my feet so far from my head. These sorts also seem to think I've never realized before that I exceed the normal range. Somehow being three standard deviations above the average has escaped my notice, and I must be informed immediately. It is completely appropriate at this point to gawk open-mouthed as though they are at the zoo before imparting this new information.

I am aware of my difference. Every time I shop for clothing. Every time I get into a vehicle. When looking for a bike, a pair of skis, or boarding an airplane. Every doorway and parkade I duck through is a reminder. I'm not saying it is all bad. I just wish I could go two days without the same tired old comments.

A word about sports in general: To be successful in a sport, a person must have several things at the same time. Inclination, coaching, coordination, the right body, and perhaps some natural ability (if you believe in that sort of thing). It is true that certain body types lend themselves naturally to some sports. I could never be a successful wrestler because I am too long and thin. I've never had the inclination for most team sports, and no one ever forced them on me. As for coordination, tall people tend to experience fewer growth spurts, instead growing slowly over a longer period. This was certainly the case for me. The thing about growing is that it plays hell with your coordination. I did it until I was 19. I've been the same height for over a decade, so I'm doing just fine now, but I could barely dribble or throw a ball as a teenager. For every pro athlete taking advantage of his/her extreme height, there are hundreds of us who could hardly make those knobby knees and awkward elbows cooperate to get dressed properly in the morning, let alone put a ball into a hoop from the top of the key.

The real down-side to being tall is clothing. Jackets are the worst, then long-sleeved shirts, then pants. If I could gain about 150 lbs, I could shop at Big and Tall stores (curse you ampersand), but since that isn't an option, it takes a lot of looking to find decent fitting clothes. You'd be amazed at the sweat pants you can buy in a place like that. My tent has less fabric. Plenty of stores have "Tall" sizes, but since they generally recommend those clothes for up to 6'3", I'm still out of luck more often than you'd think. Seriously? 6'3" is barely "above average." Not Tall.

For a time, if people asked about basketball, I would respond with a question about mini golf. I've been tempted, but never brave enough, to spit on people who ask about the weather and announce it is raining at lower elevations. For the most part though, it isn't something that takes up much mental energy. I'll catch a glimpse in a mirror when I'm out with Rosie's Mama (she's bang-on average height-wise), or I'll duck under something the person ahead of me didn't even see, or I'll see a picture of myself in a group, and I'll realize again how odd it looks. Maybe it's no wonder people say something.