Napoleon complex

I spent 15 minutes standing on a balance beam. While I was only watching nine nine year old boys practicing basketball in an elementary school gymnasium, I felt different. Dare I consider I felt special, brave, maybe even a little happier. You see, I lament about my gray hair. I feel cheated that my eyes are so bad. I wish I were smarter, better looking, more athletic. But one thing I realized--spending time at a height nearly a foot higher than I've consistently experienced most of my life--is that life may be more rewarding from up there. Tall people, they say statistically, are more successful than short people. Not that I don't consider myself successful. I do. Tall people have a great many more advantages than short people. I mean, they can see things we can't. They can see things. I've been the same height, 5'4 3/4" tall since I was 14 years old. I doubt that my teenage smoking or steroid use, or the fact that my mother smoked or maybe even enjoyed a glass a wine or two while I was in the womb, had anything to do with my height challenged self. I come from a long line of short people. My father was closer to 5' than not. My mother is short. My grandparents were short; all four of them. I'm afraid I may be missing aspects of life because of this deficiency. I don't feel inferior, as some may conclude after reading this. I don't feel as if my life is any less spectacular.

I'd just like to see more.

See more.

You know what I mean?