Ooompa loompa...
The NBA recently had their AllStar game here in New Orleans, where many players and executives participated in the rebuilding effort, and got to see the city. They bought out our whole restaurant for the evening, and I was stationed in the "Seance Lounge" which is decorated in the style of a French bordello. Four other Cajun girls were working the upstairs area, and being as we are French descent, we are short, brown haired, brown eyed girls. Not just short, but between three of us, I'm the tallest at 5'00".
As I was taking drink orders Bill Russell was sitting on a couch and still almost eye to eye with me. He asks me (which is probably the question he's asked the most), "How tall are you." I take my hand put it on my hip with a cutesy attitude say, "The question isn't how tall are you, the question is how short are you." He's not the tallest person in the room either. I think there were some Knicks players that were taller.
It's strange the way genetics and breeding work. Having four 5ft. tall waitresses must've looked like oompa loompa land to the 6'3+++ crowd. But that's what centuries of French breeding created. When I was in college I thought my (now) husband was one of the tallest people I'd seen, at 6'0" and of German descent, my father was 5'7 which was what I thought to be average but a little short for a man. Then when we moved to the midwest, it was a revelation to me that 6'0" was not "tall", it was more like average. The midwest being of a more German and Swedish descent, it was not unusual to see 6'3, 6'5...
This was about the same time that the Westminster dog show was on. I couldn't help but think that us French curiosities and the African American curiosities are comparable to specialty breeds of dogs. Not that I'm saying they shouldn't mix, but that it is a novelty to be on one end of the bell curve. That said, my form precludes me from a lot of life (I've blogged endlessly about this earlier), while it was ideal when I was a gymnast early in life.
As I was taking drink orders Bill Russell was sitting on a couch and still almost eye to eye with me. He asks me (which is probably the question he's asked the most), "How tall are you." I take my hand put it on my hip with a cutesy attitude say, "The question isn't how tall are you, the question is how short are you." He's not the tallest person in the room either. I think there were some Knicks players that were taller.
It's strange the way genetics and breeding work. Having four 5ft. tall waitresses must've looked like oompa loompa land to the 6'3+++ crowd. But that's what centuries of French breeding created. When I was in college I thought my (now) husband was one of the tallest people I'd seen, at 6'0" and of German descent, my father was 5'7 which was what I thought to be average but a little short for a man. Then when we moved to the midwest, it was a revelation to me that 6'0" was not "tall", it was more like average. The midwest being of a more German and Swedish descent, it was not unusual to see 6'3, 6'5...
This was about the same time that the Westminster dog show was on. I couldn't help but think that us French curiosities and the African American curiosities are comparable to specialty breeds of dogs. Not that I'm saying they shouldn't mix, but that it is a novelty to be on one end of the bell curve. That said, my form precludes me from a lot of life (I've blogged endlessly about this earlier), while it was ideal when I was a gymnast early in life.