Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Waiting For Godunk: I'm Tall, I Get It.

My name is Kevin Owens and I have been playing professional basketball for the past six years. I decided to start a blog documenting my daily life. I have a degree in journalism and haven't written anything since college, so I figured why not. I don't particularly think I am that interesting, however when telling people about the traveling circus that is my life, they seem very entertained. I'll be contributing some of those stories once a week here at HHR. You can also now catch me on Twitter @Waiting4Godunk. Hope you enjoy!


Well the Holiday Season is here and that means one thing...More people to stare at me whenever I walk more then ten feet from my front door. I don’t understand how I can live in basically the same area my entire life, but still be treated like I am some sort of mythological beast. What is wrong with you people? I am tall, I get it. I’ve been that way for my entire adult life. Coming up and telling me I am tall only reiterates a point that I am all too familiar with.

January through November, I usually deal with a significant amount of idiots who have some witty comment they have been saving for a tall person like myself. But once December hits, the remarks triple. There’s no way to avoid it. I, like every other person, have to run errands and do my Christmas shopping. That is when I am confronted by the drones of society about my height, either in a positive or unbearably annoying way.

Here was a basic conversation from my recent trip to the grocery store...

Myself: Sara, (my wife) I’ll run over and get the eggs.

Ignorant Observer: Holy F***in Sh*t!! (In front of his kids) You are tall as sh*t.

Myself: yea…
Ignorant Observer: How tall are you?

Myself: I’m 7 feet.

Ignorant Observer: Daaaaamn!!! Hold on...stick your hand straight up in the air.

Myself: Why?

Ignorant Observer: Man, I want to see how tall you are.

Myself: I just told you…Why do I have to lift my arm?

Ignorant Observer: Let me try to jump and slap your hand…

(After several unsuccessful attempts we move along with the conversation.)

Ignorant Observer: Do you play ball?

Myself: Yes.

Ignorant Observer: For who?

Myself: I’m still shopping for a team now.

Ignorant Observer: In the store?

Myself: umm…sure
Ignorant Observer: You should play for the Sixers…they suck.

Myself: I definitely wouldn’t say they suck

Ignorant Observer: Man they’re terrible…

Myself: OK, give them a call.

Ignorant Observer: Hell Yea!! I’m gonna call their ass!

Myself: Terrific

(I wonder if he ever called…Judging by the fact that my phone still hasn’t rang I am guessing he didn’t.)

Stimulating conversations like these seem to be the norm for my life. Only a few people truly understand how annoying this is. They include tall people or family members and friends of tall people. No one else can fully understand the mind numbing conversations I am forced to partake in everyday, until they walk along side of me in a crowded place. That’s when you see how the world reacts to height.

Some people stare without trying to get caught. Some just gawk. Some try to comment in a different language. (I know what alto means…You’re speaking Spanish not some cryptic code, geniuses.)

Some people mean mug me, others prefer to laugh. I don’t really understand the laughter. I guess they are trying to insult me, but I’m not going to feel bad about myself because a 32 year old guy shopping with his mom and wearing an “I Heart Jabba the Hut” T-shirt just giggled at me.

Whichever way people attempt to interact with me, the one question that I dread answering is, “Where do you play?” It is tough because I currently have no answer for it. For most of my life I would have been able to tell them exactly where I was playing. But for now I usually tell them “overseas” and hope they don’t know enough about basketball to realize the season is nearly halfway over. So with that said, I think I will be finishing my Christmas shopping online this year.

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