They like to call themselves above average, but there was a time when Ron Smith and Paula George felt they didn't quite measure up.
That's hard to imagine, watching them laugh as they stoop over to reach the salad bar and squeeze their legs under a dining room table so low it must have been designed with horse jockeys in mind.
Today, Ron and Paula are proud to stand out in a crowd. But during their high school days, they were miserable, wishing more than anything to lose the nicknames of "High Pockets" and "Stretch" and speak to their classmates eye-to-eye.
Growing up, "I really got tired of being called 'Lurch' (the tall monster in 'The Addams Family')," says Ron, 50, digging into his salad at Salt Lake City's Soup Kitchen. "And everybody was always pressuring me to play basketball. Even today, people ask me what basketball team I played on." He puts down his fork and sighs. "It isn't easy, being tall."
Ron is 6 feet 6 inches tall and Paula is 6 feet 1 inch. They wanted to meet for a Free Lunch to discuss what it's like to go through life looking down on everyone. They also have a message for other tall people: You no longer have to feel alone.
Last year, Ron started the Tall Club of Salt Lake www.TallSaltLake.com, a chapter of Tall Clubs International, to give others who are vertically gifted a place to socialize without hearing shortsighted comments such as "Look, here comes the Jolly Green Giant."
With 28 members and a motto of "It's not the altitude, it's the attitude," the club's only rules are that men have to be at least 6 feet 2 inches, and women have to stand at least 5 feet 8 inches.
"And that's with their hair smashed down," says Paula, 39, who officially measures each potential member. "No cheating allowed. If you're 5-foot-7 with beehive hair, it doesn't count."
Paula was thrilled when a friend passed along one of Ron's Tall Club business cards last year. Finally, a way to dine out and go hiking and skiing without looking at everybody else's scalp. Finally, perhaps she could find a dance partner who didn't have to stare at her chest during slow songs.
"I wish there had been a club like this when I was younger," she says. "I was my current height when I was in the eighth grade. Do you know what it's like to always be stuck in the middle of the back row for class pictures? Not fun. And I could never find clothes that fit, like other kids. I had to sew my own."
Today, when she does venture into a department store, she faces challenges that short people have probably never thought about. Most of the mirrors cut off her reflection at the waist, while some dressing room doors leave little to the imagination.
"There's one store where I have to sit down to get dressed or I'll give everybody a free show," laments Paula.
Ron sips his cola and smiles. "Hmmm. Mind telling me where that is?"
Ron and Paula have become close friends through the Tall Club. Although Ron is still looking for a woman who rises above the rest, Paula recently met the first man she feels comfortable with on the dance floor. At 6-foot-10, her new boyfriend has to stoop through door frames and fold himself into phone booths.
"When we walk down the street together," says Paula, "everybody gets out of our way."
Which is certainly one advantage to being somebody others look up to. "We can always see above the crowd," says Ron, "and we never need a step stool to change a light bulb."
At movie theaters, everybody cringes when members of the Tall Club show up, but Ron says not to worry.
"I won't sit in front of you," he promises, "unless I'm wearing my cowboy hat."
Have a story? Let's do lunch. E-mail your name, phone number and what's on your mind to freelunch@desnews.com or send a fax to 466-2851. You can also write me at the Deseret News, P.O. Box 1257, Salt Lake City, UT 84110.