The Bigger They Are.

Randy Newman once wrote a song called 'Short People' apparently mocking those of diminutive stature. Although it was actually a satirical song about prejudice most people missed the point and thought it was actually about, well, short people. As a vertically challenged person myself, I am here to tell you big is not necessarily beautiful.

My Stepfather is a lovely chap but suffers from excessive tallness. I believe he is about 6ft 7ins tall and stocky with it.  In the days before the internet he had to get his clothes and shoes from specialist shops. Not for him a quick trip down the High Street for a new suit off the peg, people of his size just weren't catered for and generally still aren't. I can remember my brother and I being fascinated by his size 13 shoes which looked big enough to climb into and sail across the English Channel. A couple of my friends are well over six foot and recount stories of nearly knocking themselves out on Low beams and doorways. They probably live in a permanent state of semi concussion. I used to go and see a few bands with one of my height afflicted buddies. I would be pushing my way to front to be able to see and he would be hanging round at the back, why? Because he was so self-conscious of his height he didn't want to block peoples view. I don't have any such foibles.

And it's not only people, even stuffed toys can be too big. When our grandson was ill some relatives bought him a huge, cuddly, toy dog. Their intentions were for the best and they were just trying to show their affection but it stands about 5ft tall and is bigger than a 10 year old child. It's too big for him to play with and takes up the entire corner of a room. My lovely wife has already scared herself once by coming across it in the dark thinking it's an intruder. His mother is worried about putting it in his bedroom in case he wakes in the night and it frightens him. When we drove up the motorway to deliver the cuddly dog to our grandson, I had it strapped into the back of the car like an elderly relative. I'm sure we created much amusement for the other traffic.

We took our one of our sons on holiday to Corfu. There was a little shop near the beach which sold all the flip flops, beach paraphernalia, inflatable li-los and the like. Hanging up in the rafters was an inflatable killer whale; it was huge. Of course our son wanted one. Against my better judgement we indulged him and bought it and for some reason, I know not why, he named it Jeffery. The vendor cheerfully blew it up for us and we headed to the beach. I must admit we spent a merry time trying to ride it in the sea and towing him around on it. The problem was that every time we let go of it the wind would catch it and take it swiftly out to sea and I would have to swim like Mark Spitz to get it back again. The same problem happened when it was on the beach, a tiny gust of wind and I would be racing up the beach to retrieve it. My wife is still laughing about it.

We used to have a silver birch tree in our front garden that was planted when the estate was built. Over the years it grew to be an impressive specimen and became a beautiful tree. Unfortunately, it became so large it blocked out the light and filled the neighbours guttering with leaves every autumn. It was just too big and had to go although I did feel bad about it.

Pity the poor roadies who have had their backs broken over the years by moving those Marshall stacks; they look impressive on stage but some poor sod has got to lug them about. It's hard to look cool when you are dragging a speaker cabinet up a flight of stairs.

So the moral of story is big is not necessarily better and, if you are deciding which musical instrument to take up, remember; It's better to be the sexy, glamorous saxophonist leaving the gig with his instrument case in one hand and a girl in the other than the timpani player, dripping in sweat, loading his kit into back of the van while the rest of his mates party.