By Neal Wooten
This is the title of my favorite Marty Robbins song, and for the reason you might expect. It’s about a short gunfighter in the old west. If we go by the movies, all the gunslingers and heroes of the old west were over six feet tall. And it’s not just westerns; most of the good guys in all movies are tall. This preoccupation with men’s height in regard to their worth is downright depressing to me.
“Tall, dark, and handsome” is a phrase that has haunted me my entire life. I was really short when I was born. I was a very short toddler. I was mighty short in elementary. By junior high, guys in my class started hitting their growth spurts. By high school, they all had…except me. Like my wisdom teeth, my growth spurt never showed up. I’m not dark either. My ex-wife’s family used to say I was so white they needed sunglasses just to look directly at me.
I didn’t even understand why I was so short until my senior year. A wonderful artist, Fletcher Warren, drew a caricature of me in a football uniform. I was on crutches at the time, so he drew me on crutches. With exaggerated muscles, I was lifting one opponent up by the throat with my hand, and another off the ground with one of my crutches. It was awesome art, but something seemed off. Then I realized what it was. “Why did you make my legs so short?” I asked.
Everyone roared with laughter. As it turns out, the cartoon was a perfect representation of my proportions. It wasn’t Fletcher who made my legs short; it was God. That same year, I saw Burt Reynolds on The Tonight Show explain to Johnny Carson that someone was walking around with his legs. He stood to show that his torso was very long, but his legs clearly did not match. So, whoever has been walking around with my legs, I wish they would return them.
I’ve always kind of frowned upon cosmetic surgeries. There have always been stories in the news of celebrities getting facelifts and other enhancements. Now, it’s no longer just celebrities but regular folks going through all types of procedures like liposuction and Botox. And the latest craze is leg lengthening. They cut your legs in half below the shin and add about four inches to the bones. It’s painful and expensive, but if I was younger and rich, I might do it.
I guess I’m too old for that nonsense now. But don’t count me out. I’m that short gunslinger at the bar who isn’t going to let his height, or lack thereof, stop him.
