If only I were a bit taller.
I’m six feet two inches tall (188 centimetres), yet on more than one occasion I’ve contemplated what life would be like if I had another three or four inches under my chin. I like to imagine myself not just peaking over the heads of average-height people, but towering over all but the absolute elite in the basketball industry.
I would have a ready-made career as a Klingon extra in the next Star Trek saga (as Klingons are particularly tall) and heighty fashion models would naturally be drawn to me, because they could wear high heals and still appear comfortably shorter than their date at formal affairs.
Yep, if I were a little more like Taylor Lambert (friend, former Times-Herald sports reporter and 6’ 5” super dude) I’m pretty sure I would want for nothing.
It’s perhaps the oddest thing about the human animal — even when we are blessed with so much, we always seem to want just a little bit more. For me, this means many things, including a desire to not just be tall, but really tall.
Let’s face it, 6’ 2” is nothing to sneeze at and I have much shorter friends who would pay a handsome sum to be as tall as handsome me. Yet, I rarely think in terms of giving thanks for my blessings.
Dissatisfaction — the true human condition.
One need not look far for cultural affirmation of my generalized claim. It’s right at the beginning of the Bible. It seems to me the Geneses story regarding Adam and Eve is a bit of a cautionary tale about the human obsession with having more when there is already so much for which to be grateful.
Why would this original biblical couple even risk forfeiting the ease and pleasures of Eden for a taste of God’s stresses in the knowledge of good and evil? I’ll tell you why, human nature.
Those in the movie theatre concession or fast food till industry seem quite adept at utilizing our craving for a bit more. After all, what is up-selling if not the gentle massaging of our quest to acquire, regardless of how much we already have (or how hungry we actually are)?
I guess it all relates to our species’ evolution in a world of scarcity. It makes sense that one would always want more, even when there is a lot at one’s disposal, because a change in circumstances could leave the environment totally lacking in necessities at any given moment.
Unfortunately, in a world of seemingly steady abundance, this lust for more tends to (more often than not) cause a great deal of unnecessary suffering. I imagine the same traits that lead one to eat to the point of obesity in western culture would be quite an asset in a prehistorical hunter-gatherer society where building up food reserves is a must.
Mind you, I don’t know exactly how this translates to my envy of the freakishly tall. After all, height isn’t really something people can do anything about. Unlike eating too much, a lust for a longer spine isn’t exactly something one can satisfy.
This is probably for the best. I bet if there were some method of extending one’s body, there would be people addicted to height and (much like those unfortunate steroid-abusing bodybuilders with their dangerously big muscles or people who appear like cats after countless plastic surgeries) we would soon see 10-foot tall vertical addicts unable to quench their thirst for the sky.
So what is the moral of the column? I’d like to think people (myself especially) should be more thankful for those things worthy of appreciation, without constantly obsessing because of some inherent sense of inadequacy.
After all, 6’ 2” really is a pretty decent height and, if I ever could manage to stop slouching, I’d probably be able to reach 6’ 3” and a half.
If only I had a bit better posture.
Carter Haydu can be reached at 691-1265.
