Recently, I wrote a column about the plague of shortness. Immediately afterward, I received an indignant missive from a tall woman, who stands 6 feet 1 inch tall. Her name is Janet Heimbigner, and she lives in South Jordan. When I saw the `big' in her name, I feared that I'd been had - but I found her actual name and address in the phone book.
What she said is worth sharing.She said she was "sick of hearing how short people are picked on and discriminated against." She said she doesn't apologize for her height, but she is "tired of being treated as a freak of nature by rude, unthinking, immature adults and ill-trained children. Why is it considered attractive for men to be tall but not women?"
Although Heimbigner considers herself "as pretty, well-proportioned and feminine as any other woman," she has always had to endure rude epithets such as "amazon." She also is "sick of men treating me as if it's an affront to their manhood that there is a woman taller than they are."
She has known tall women who quit choirs because of rude comments. In spite of the fact that she is taller than most of the men who stand behind her, she sings in a choir and will continue to do so. "No one is going to intimidate me or I'll spit on their head."
She also complained about not being able to find clothes to fit. "Or getting in a car with the seat up so far your knees are up to your chin. Or people (like you) who think that just because a person is tall they must be athletic. I have no athletic ability. In fact, I hate sports."
Heimbigner issued me a stern "warning" to stop treating tall women as "freaks of nature, like a two-headed calf. Because we're out here and we're not going away. And with the help of my 6'8" husband, I plan on having lots of tall daughters!"
Although I didn't realize when I talked about shortness that I was inadvertently offending tall women, I'm properly humbled and promise never to whine about shortness again.4 I WAS INTERESTED to learn not only that the new four-level Salt Lake Airport parking terrace was finally finished, but that it was dedicated. Happily, there is space for 2,500 vehicles! And so these vehicles - and quite a few people too - gathered in this 1.3-million-square-foot facility to celebrate with a bountiful buffet and appropriate music.
I hope there was enough fuel for the vehicles, and that they were all washed and polished.
It goes without saying that we were all anxious to stop using that infernal shuttle bus. Now we can go to the airport, park in the parking lot and walk into the terminal the way civilized people do in other cities.
But do we really need to dedicate a parking lot?
I was thinking how fond we are of making garages and driveways the focal points of our houses. As we drive by a new neighborhood, we all chorus, "What a beautiful garage - and apparently there is a house there somewhere, too!"
We tear down beautiful, old buildings so that we can build a fine, new parking terrace in its place. And then we dedicate it.
It suggests that vehicles are more important than people.
Now that I think of it, maybe that's what is wrong with the dingy parking garage I personally frequent every day - the one that has been in continual repair since the 1960s.
Maybe it hasn't been dedicated.4 BECAUSE OF RECENT experience visiting a seriously ill, hospitalized brother-in-law, I've decided that there are basically two kinds of visitors of the sick - those who are subdued, compassionate and quiet, and those who are perky, boistrous and talkative.
Predictably, there are more of the latter who also stay longer and are usually less welcome than the former. They act as if their pure charisma will magically persuade the patient to get out of bed and quit pretending he is sick. Instead, they wear him out. Perky doesn't belong in the hospital.