I haven't been a tall person in more than 40 years, but I still occasionally do tall person things

My son Jack making me look like a dwarf.

I was just down in our basement laundry room taking clothes out of the dryer when I stood up and nearly hit my head on the metal gas pipe running across the ceiling.

Actually, my head didn't come anywhere near the pipe, but I flinched as if it had. This is funny for a few reasons:

1. That pipe is probably 6 1/2 feet above the floor. I am not, have never been, nor ever will be 6 feet, 6 inches tall.
   
   
2. For that matter, I am not, have never been, nor ever will be even 6 feet tall.
   
   
3. The last time I was considered anything approaching "tall" was during Ronald Reagan's first term.

As I've chronicled here before, I spent a few early years of my life being tall. From about 5th grade through 8th grade, I was taller than most of my peers.

This was only because I hit puberty way before the majority of my classmates. I spent 6th grade literally looking down on them with my suddenly deep voice and hilariously wispy mustache.

I played two years of middle school basketball as a center, not because I was especially skilled but because I was still relatively tall and could grab rebounds.

I could also commit fouls, which I did with frequency. I fouled out of almost every game in which I played.

Genetics being what they are, I stopped growing and everyone eventually caught up to me. I have spent my adult life at a shade under 5-10, which mathematically makes me of slightly above-average height compared with the typical 5-9 American male, but in reality has meant I'm just another guy who isn't short but isn't tall.

Still, even three years of tall person-hood back in the early 80s ingrained in me certain tall person habits that surface from time to time. Like ducking under metal pipes that are nowhere close to my head and thinking I can reach things on the top shelf of the grocery store when in fact I can't.

My sons are fairly tall at 6-1 (Jared) and 6-2 (Jack), but that either comes from Terry's side of the family or a recessive gene linked to my Uncle Jim, the tallest of my dad's brothers.

I don't remember how short I really am until I stand next to one or both of my boys, at which point I feel like the mayor of Munchkinland.

But I will always remember the time when I was the Shaquille O'Neal of Mapledale Elementary School. It was glorious.

Hearkening back to when I was tall. Bob Holmes to my immediate right was the only boy who could challenge me for vertical endowment.

Are you, like me, a formerly tall person?

 

This is my sixth-grade class picture. That's me in the top row, right side. I circled myself, but I probably didn't need to.

I could have just told you to look for the tall kid.

You see, for a time in early 1980s, I was a Tall Kid. I was one of those who shot up early. I went on to play center on my middle school basketball teams.

If you know me now, you will find that funny. 

In this photo I was something like 5 feet, 9 inches tall. Now, nearly 40 years later, I am 5-9 1/2. I was listed at 5-10 on our high school football roster, but I'm not sure I ever quite got there.

Yes, I just about peaked height-wise by middle school.

I reached my adult height in my very early teens, then that was it. I was done growing. Or at least I was done growing vertically. It just wasn't in the biological cards for me to ever hit 6 feet.

I passed this "get tall early and then stop" gene on to my children, all of whom have been tall for their ages. My sons are both about 6-1, which confuses me. If they didn't look like me, I would start to be suspicious as to their true lineage.

There are worse things in life, I suppose, but it took me a long time to stop thinking of myself as "tall."

Maybe I'll hit another growth spurt when I turn 52.

It could happen.