REFLECTIONS

REFLECTIONS:

Like a silk sheet floating over smooth lake water, 2013 passed away and in comes a New Year we must now refer to as 2014. We’ll surely forget to write that date on new checks and letters for a while, but soon it will become the norm.

Looking back, if one were to create a list of what has changed it might amaze quite a few. We are slowly discovering things that once bothered us no longer do. Items we despised thinking about are not all that bad. Some might even say we have become anesthetized as a society because we no longer care about much of anything.

We have mastered the art of giving criticism but fail to stop long enough to examine things. We want changes, some demand them while others like the way things were. The winners of course create change and then people stop to take a look. No, that was not what they wanted, but it is too late. The changes became law.

We are so busy trying to make things work or blend together we no longer pay attention to the news, the rules, laws or important things that improve lifestyle.

I watched a couple of television shows where the comedian went out on the street to ask a few questions from people on the street. He was not picky he only chose folks from all walks of life. It is what he asked and the answers he received that opened my eyes. The people came from every walk in life meaning some were young and some much older. Some were White, Black, and Hispanic, from the Middle East and Asia. He did a good job of selecting a variety of outlooks and opinions. What he did not get were answers. He discovered the majority were functioning brain-dead bodies. The majority just walked through life without a thought in the world. Few knew anything about history or education or the news. He was asking questions to dead people who somehow were still functioning as living creatures. Some had no idea who ran the country or what their jobs were. A few people thought politicians were actors, newsmen or women. It became apparent almost all had limited knowledge about the country where they lived. Additional insults came when a few openly voiced opinions about the laws being stupid and unacceptable.

While he cleverly asked the questions, the answers were quite serious. Most do not like the idea of working and would rather get free things. Free was the word of the day. Many thought it was cool for others to pay for their education, phones and transportation. Most knew nothing about the stock market, banking or other questions I thought everyone knew. It wasn’t a test because he was just asking questions about life in general.

We all seem to hate taxes but are clueless to all the new hidden taxes. No one cares what the tax money might be used for it is just another tax. They now tax wine, beer, liquor, fishing rods, camping goods, clothes, and many other items. Sadly only the observant understand there are additional taxes added separately. Most stores just build the tax into the receipt or hide it. Some dare to expose it and still we miss it until the one responsible for paying the bills notices these new added on expenses.

It’s like Social Security. When my father was young, and I too was young, the government said Social Security was a savings account for when we got older. The government figured out few of its citizens saved much or nothing at all during the great depression. The Government decided they would save our money for us. It was safe and backed by the government. We had money taken out of each check. It was mandatory. They took it even when people disagreed with them. I believe they are still doing this. It had always been a safety net. When we got too old to work, we had this savings account waiting for us. It was safe, protected and backed up by the government like a pension plan. We believed it. Then along came this fellow by the name of Johnson. He was the President at the time. He took a look at all that money and decided to borrow it. He said they would pay it back. Without taking a vote or asking public opinion, the government chose to take the money and then spent it on other stuff. Poof, with the signing of a pen the trillion-dollar Social Security account vanished. They started using other’s money to pay for the older folks retiring. They said the program was now broke or would be in a few years. They changed the name and now refer to it as an “entitlement.”  The government stole the mandatory savings account. This was the citizens money thought to be tucked safely away and backed by the government. Those who operated the program could not figure out how to pay it back. It was too late. Oops. They got together and changed the title. Presently referred to as an "entitlement" the mandatory savings account every law-abiding citizen contributed into is no more. It is as though we are now all brain dead and would not notice. It is like a thief stealing your things and then selling them back to make the innocent feel guilty for making their lifelong contribution. They forgot they took the money to create an entitlement called Medicare and Medicaid both of which received their initial funds from Social Security money.

Of course, a divided country exists, but most do not know why or if they agree or disagree with either side. It is easier to complain until an unwanted change comes along that makes us mad.

It is easy to blame one party or the other if people behave reasonably. It may be unthinkable to rationalize both parties and independents are equally guilty of one thing or another. We vote people in because we like how they talk. Some politicians just look nice, or they are intelligent sounding. Some share great ideas that will never become a factor once they get into office. We vote for some because they are liberal or conservative. Most of the time the public does not have a clue who these people are? Are they honest? When voted into public service would they do the job as promised in the election?  Does the population care? Many vote straight down party lines without giving one thought on whom they are voting for. The man or woman could be a crook, liar or cheat. It does not’ matter because he or she is a democrat or republican and thus deserves my vote.

Of course, we do not talk about politics with friends and neighbors because the conversation always ends badly. That way, later on when the ones voted for fails, people can avoid saying they voted for them.

Looking at the whole, I realized we avoid voting the best person into office, instead we vote for the party and then blame them when things go wrong. When we look back, we realize this dreadful habit started a long time ago. There was a time we looked at each candidate closely and then picked the one who looked trustful and honest and would do the best job for us.

As a whole, are we better than the year before? Did all the things we hoped for happen? Has racial feelings changed? Do we like each other more? Do we have better jobs? Are the ethnics groups thriving? Have we improved the global outlook of the country we live? Have we made new friends, sought peace and opened communications everywhere? Have we improved the air we breathe? Did we help nations in need? Did we give and receive equal parts?

There will always be problems, disagreements and compromises. Are we doing the best we cab to improve these areas? Is it the fault of Congress or is it the Senate? It has to be someone’s fault, and we’d never admit it if we put the wrong person in the office.

The New Year brings hope, just like every New Year from the past. The bigger question is can we do what needs to be done so all of mankind can live a better life?

We make New Years Resolutions and keep them for a few days or a month. Then we forget about the resolutions just like politicians do on their way to the office. Why make a resolution if we know we’ll break it? If we need to lose a few pounds will we do it or just forget about the promise? Will be stop drinking or smoking or eat less chocolate?

If only we could slow down. If only we examined things before doing them. When was the last time we stopped to help a stranger, get an animal out of the road or assist a person with a handicap do something they can not do for themselves?

Have you ever thanked a policeman, fireman, or person serving in the military? When traveling, do we thank the pilot, the person checking your I.D. or the taxi driver? What about saying a kind word to someone serving their country and at the same time protecting all of us while visiting?

We’re in a hurry. We’re guilty of not doing many things we should be doing every day. When opening the eyes each morning, that is the moment to be grateful. When was the last time you said, “thank you” out loud for just being alive?

Reflecting over one year is fun and dangerous. Fun because we enjoy e a good time and take the fun over everything else. Dangerous because we understand all the things we could have done but skipped because being in a hurry was more important. The common excuse explained that there was no time, when in truth there was plenty of time. We have regrets. We carry guilt everywhere.  The chest wounds go deep and hide the pain of frustration. We forget the little things and take lots for granted. If we dare reflect over a few years, we get frustrated. We realize we could have easily avoided much of what we despise in life. To deal with things we should have taken a little more time to check them out.

Life is beautiful once we learn to live it. The journey can be a rough ride because of the choices made but if thought out would most likely have a different result. Endings are what we make them be and by nature complain when they do not work as planned.

Time just flows through the fingers like sand at the beach. It does not return. There are no makeovers and nothing that has passed on will come back for seconds. If we dare to live recklessly, we can expect a reckless outcome. We are what exclusively make us unique. We hear our own symphony and no one can take it away or improve it except us.

Let’s reflect together. With some effort, we can make mankind better for all. Let’s make 2014 special and help it work for many instead of only a few.

William Byron Hillman © 2014

My next film:

Quigley’s Christmas Adventure

www.quigley2.com

On Twitter http://www.twitter.com/@QuigleyMovie

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Web site: http://www.williamhillman.com

Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/author/williamhillman

Twitter Page http://www.twitter.com/@whillman

Book Links:

Dream Searcher http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00EC19DJW

Let’s Sue ‘Em http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009M9E790

Veronique and Murray: http://tinyurl.com/8xrmmu7

The Hard Way: http://tinyurl.com/86hgtz6

Zebra’s Rock and Me http://tinyurl.com/7b28qu6

Quigley’s Christmas Adventure http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00ANVNQ6G

In development Veronique and Murray’s Honeymoon

Rollie Kemp Books

Ghosts and Phantoms Part I: http://tinyurl.com/6wxef7g

Ghosts and Phantoms Part II: http://tinyurl.com/d7mtspu

APRIL: http://tinyurl.com/7gt9prd

Bad Rap: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00DNIHCYI

In editorial – Prematurely Terminated

DON'T ASK DON'T TELL

DON’T ASK DON’T TELL

To many this has only one meaning but to me it has broad and eventful consequences. So many of us forget to ask, afraid of what we might hear and of course we never tell for fear of ridicule.

When was the last time you asked your wife, child, neighbor, friend or co-worker how they were and really meant it? Many of us have little or no idea what needs may be silently begged for and yet go unheard. Do we know what makes all those in and around our lives tick, smile, or fear? No, that’s the answer.

Wives become that woman who does, but inside may have a siren screaming for attention that goes unnoticed. It can be so simple, a warm meaningful hug could be all that is needed and yet missed.

Children grow up so fast, they are known to form their own ideas, most of which remain known only to them. Children fear being made fun of or laughed at. They are, after all, just children. What do they know?

Neighbors are those people who live next door or down the block. You wave or smile at neighbors but have little in common with them. Going out of your way can be painful. Can you remember the last time you asked a neighbor how they were? Have you ever asked a person living down the block if they needed anything or could use a shoulder to lean on? No, the answer is probably not.

Co-workers are people who fulfill duties, come and go and have little connection with anyone unless they get fired or their time is cut. In anger, we usually find answers to questions we didn't want to ask. For many who hope issues will just go away, their silence is not an easy way to avoid problems. Sadly, in many cases it doesn’t.

So much of our misery could be avoided if we spent a little time to explore things before we dove in and asked a few simple questions that might offend or create an argument. If we asked with sincerity, lives could change, and sad end results could be altered. We don’t ask because we don’t want to take the time required to follow through and do it in an honest and heartfelt way. We are afraid what is heard might take longer to deal with or solve or, God forbid, requires more time and we don’t want to part with our precious time, so ultimately we don’t ask.

It’s a bit scary when you wonder how many men don’t really know their wives or girlfriends. At times, men have no real idea what makes their mates inner engine purr. It takes both men and women years to realize the opposite sex is different inside and out. The discrepancy goes much deeper than sex, sports or leisure activities. The unknown in many cases is deep and even terrifying, and why few dare to explore. Sometimes its just easier to separate than deal with unknown issues that if talked out, questions asked, and secrets shared could alter both lives in unexpected and totally fulfilled ways. Few ask or tell and thats too bad.

Working with children is always a difficult task. Even when best efforts are used it can backfire and make matters worse. Without having an abundance of patience, you can expect failure to raise its ugly head. Few mothers and fathers really get to know their children. The little tykes are babies one minute and teenagers the next. They sprout unexpectedly, grow out of their clothes too fast, and before you know it they suddenly have adult type opinions of things you didn’t even think they knew about. Some children even have to audacity to explore a different faith than yours, disagree with their families in-house politics and change views on just about everything that started within the safety of their initial four walls. Kids can be difficult, moody, argumentative, and even downright ornery. They may use drugs, start smoking, or become loose with their sexuality. Many do this quietly and totally without guidance. Many parents are clueless and shocked when a discovery is made. Some parents are so afraid to hear the reasons for such rebellion they refuse to acknowledge it exists and choose to look the other way.

Have you ever asked why? The answer is basically easy, no one asks questions or listens to answers. Many parents watch from arms length while their children grew up right under their nose. No one dared to quiz or inquire about issues mostly hidden from plain sight. Things we accuse children of doing are for the most part, not in their thoughts but are, for whatever reason, in ours. Had we had enough curiosity to trust, ask important questions and know what our children thought about things it might change everything. To open dialogue is tough for many. Sometimes it takes lots of patience, something we don’t want to part with. Some actually believe it’s easier to avoid asking children uncomfortable questions, and allow things to happen as they do. Again too many wait until their children grow up and become adults. Sadly many do this and in most cases it's too late to make a difference. Kids automatically grow up believing parents are against them and everything they stand for. Some kids don’t have a clue what they stand for, so they follow others. If we expect them to tell us all about it, we’re dreaming.

When things are shared, things we don’t want to hear or deal with are uncomfortable, and become the unthinkable or the disgusting. Shoulders are turned, and ears are tuned into something else. It’s easier to avoid telling others about the feeling when a person sees reluctance in the eyes of their audience. Telling uncomfortable incidences is like sharing secrets. No one really wants to tell them that! What would they think of the teller? So don’t tell lives on. Too many hold those precious moments inside, and refuse to find room in their heads or hearts to store them. They go untold, un-whispered and unmentioned until they overflow and spill out at the most unexpected and inconvenient of times.

Don’t ask, don’t tell has potentially terrible consequences. Most adult problems lead back, and begin early in life. When people hide personal issues, they are usually declared as dirty laundry. Mental stress tends to disintegrate over time, and gradually forms an anxiety that will only get worse with age. It's not a good idea to push the art of asking or telling. A void is created when no one answers questions we may want to ask. It never leaves on its own, sadly it stays in mind and in some cases permeates and gets ugly.

Love is great if you know how to share and give it. Hugs are rewarding if they are meant and given with sincerity. Peace is a creation, a state of mind. We aren’t angry when we're born. We come into life with expectations, and in many cases those are slowly peeled away. Learning and listening are gifts that can be taught early if we know how to teach others how to learn, to listen and the true meaning of love and respect. Honesty and truth are also a state of mind. We watch others lie, cheat and steal and get away with it. Some even become extremely successful doing unto others what they would never do to themselves. It’s hard to turn that around and justify why a youngster should do the opposite and accomplish something right, honest and good.

One way or the other, we, all of us, need to get over it. We need to ask and tell and force others to do the right thing. It may be hard when there is a bias everywhere. People disagree. The news can be one sided. Lies can come from places we once respected. It’s hard to justify why it’s okay for a politician to lie and then later preach the complete opposite. There are laws written badly, decisions made by important people and activated because people were afraid to ask and tell their opinions. We need to stop the practice of believing everything we hear because someone said it was good or okay. We need to question, wonder and insist it be done right.

We need to ask more questions, tell more stories and reach out and seek ideas from those disagreed with. We have forgotten how to compromise, tell the truth and expect others to do the same to us, and we would do to them. We have forgotten how to reach out and help a stranger, listen to a child and hear someone from another culture, nation or ethnic background describe the differences that exist and then work together for ways to improve them. Listening is an art, and we need to learn how to master this art, improve it, and justify what is heard and taught. More importantly we need to find ways to get along, and live with one another in a very complicated world.

William Byron Hillman © 2013

Web site: http://www.williamhillman.com

Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/author/williamhillman

Twitter Page http://www.twitter.com/@whillman

Book Links:

Dream Searcher http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00EC19DJW

Let’s Sue ‘Em http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009M9E790

Veronique and Murray: http://tinyurl.com/8xrmmu7

The Hard Way: http://tinyurl.com/86hgtz6

Zebra’s Rock and Me http://tinyurl.com/7b28qu6

Quigley’s Christmas Adventure http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00ANVNQ6G

In development Veronique and Murray’s Honeymoon

Rollie Kemp Books

Ghosts and Phantoms Part I: http://tinyurl.com/6wxef7g

Ghosts and Phantoms Part II: http://tinyurl.com/d7mtspu

APRIL: http://tinyurl.com/7gt9prd

Bad Rap: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00DNIHCYI

In editorial – Prematurely Terminated

My next film:

Quigley’s Christmas Adventure

www.quigley2.com

On Twitter http://www.twitter.com/@QuigleyMovie

Facebook http://www.facebook.com/She.2guy

MAKING A MOVIE

MAKING A MOVIE

It’s fun, and a significant challenge to put a movie together. The first thing you want to do is decide what kind of movie to make. By that, I mean, an action film, comedy, family venture or violent murder mystery.

I had the pleasure of making all of the above. As a filmmaker, you want to have fun doing what you love, but realize you also have an audience to please. People love movies, kids love them almost on an equal basis, and I love to make them, view and own them.

Of all the films I’ve directed or worked on in some capacity, the most rewarding has come from making family films. I’ve enjoyed every minute on the set, in the planning and after the films were released. I love working with kids, animals and stunt performers. Oh, I like the actors too, they’re just fairly serious where kids are open to try, listen and give from the heart. For the most part, the kids behave. As for the animals, I’ve never met one I didn’t like. I’ve shot with pigs, cows, horses, miniature horses, rabbits, skunks, cats and of course dogs. Dogs are my favorite. We need to add, of course, it helps enormously if you have great trainers to come along with the animals.

As a filmmaker, we depend on receiving residuals for our work. Most of the time you make a good salary when a film is made. After the movie is completed, you wait, and hope to go back to work on another film. In-between the movie jobs, you survive on residuals. A residual is a filmmaker royalty. Honest distribution means you get residuals, and sometimes they come out of the blue. Residuals are always welcomed, and usually occur at times you really need them. Not all filmmakers managed to find steady work. Sporadic income puts importance to reliable reporting and receiving residuals. The additional income from the royalty becomes part of our lives.

A few years ago I was asked to do an independent study on how various films did. I researched my own films along with many other filmmaker projects. I looked at G to R rated motion pictures made at studios and by independents. Some were very successful and others not so. I asked a lot of questions and got a few who reluctantly shared information with me, some refused, and some got mad. The effect was independent films paid better residuals than major studios. I guess you can equate that with a major publisher who dares to take good care of their writers as opposed to self-published books where the writer gets an honest share of all his sales. I was amazed how many so-so films actually made money, returned a profit and paid residuals.

When I separated the superstars from the rest of the crowd, it became an exciting study. You are not part of the majority if you are well paid up front. Most independent filmmakers get by with a very thin wallet, get paid little during production, and then wait for the residuals. Few own a piece of the film and an even fewer number actually make money from their ownership.

I am among many who have received a residual check for one cent. Yes, you read it correctly, $.01, and sadly its happened on more than one occasion. All of these tiny checks came from a major studio and/or network projects. The independent companies I have worked for paid more often, paid better, and thus it became obvious for the reasons most stayed in business. If they treated the filmmaker fairly, he’d most likely bring them another project. If they were cheated or felt they got the short end f the stick, they took their next movie projects elsewhere.

Checking over the rest of a fairly large pool of filmmakers, it became apparent what made money and what didn’t. What films had the longest shelf life and what kind of films disappeared after a few months of their release.

As for long shelf life, the most rewarding films were all family films. Without a doubt, family films were the core breadwinners at the box office. More importantly, nearly all had a G or PG rating. Many of these family films had been around for twenty or thirty years and in some cases much longer than that.

I realized I had the same results when I took a look at all my films. While I have produced and directed R rated projects that did exceedingly well at the box office and later on home video, all have disappeared from distribution after a few years and you can’t find a copy to rent anywhere. People have to search to find older PG-13 or R rated films. The most popular sites to find older films are either eBay or Amazon, and you have to buy them. They were long out of the rental boxes. The G and PG films, on the other hand, are still available at Wal-Mart, Best Buy, Target, K-Mart, Sears and many other retail outlets.

The G rated films I have produced and directed are still in distribution, and all of them have returned more in residuals than all the other projects I have done combined.

The bottom line when making a movie, think about the audience, your long-term goal, and the story content. Think about what pushes your hot button as the excitement you have in your heart bleeds comfortably into the movie you create. If you’re the writer, your story sparkles when touched by your heartstrings and this can be a thriller, comedy or action adventure.

My passion is not your passion. A movie is not a novel. You don’t have the opportunity to go into detailed development with character or location. You have to get to the point and in most cases do it quickly. The scenes need to flow seamlessly. The characters need to be multidimensional, exciting and alive. They need to feel, hurt and share emotions. The beginning, as one of my mentors preached to me over and over, was to begin with a bang. That’s not to say you need an explosion, a murder or accident. It says the story must have legs the moment it opens. A love story requires feelings, an action piece some excitement, and those who dare to make an adventure should start with one.

Making a movie has many moving parts. It all starts with a script. The story needs to grab the reader and suck him or her into the page and keep them there. You can have rises and tumbles, but you can’t leave the basic story for a second. You have no time for that. It’s a movie, and that means the story moves with lightening speed from one minute to the next. In the end, you want the audience to feel out of breath, as though they had just run a 10K. You want them to bounce from the theatre wanting more. If they question the plot, is it in a good way? If they missed something, will they come back for a second look?

Once the script is so tight it squeaks, you move on to casting and fund raising. Then comes the crew, special effects, locations and who plans to do what. When that’s over, you look to the editor to save you and use every piece you shot to protect the film and the gaps that suddenly raise their ugly head unexpectedly. You add the magic of sound, mix it together with the dialogue and then create a music score that blows you away. That doesn’t mean loud obnoxious music – it means to piece a score together that makes every scene in your film dance.

In the end, you screen your masterpiece and hope the audience loves it. Right after the screen opens you’ll know from their reaction. You might hear an “Awe” or a “gasp”. People breathe, take deep breaths or move closer to the screen. It’s a great experience to sit in the back of the theatre and watch reactions.

There is nothing that can duplicate the feeling of watching your movie come to life in front of an audience that loves what they see. There is madness to making a movie, loving the process and enjoying the outcome. Thus, the reason I make movies. I enjoy writing the script, arguing over words, scenes and characters. I thrill with producing and bringing all the moving parts together, and lastly I thoroughly become engrossed in directing and bringing all the selected pieces into one finely tuned event – a movie.

Making a movie is like the construction business only ten times more thrilling. If you buy a lot and build a building – that’s it. You can rent it, occupy it or sell it. In the end, it’s just a building.  When you make a movie, it breathes, moves, lives and lasts a lifetime. The backer feels a pulse, an accomplishment not felt in any other business. The audience, the press and the thrill of seeing his name on the film reward the backer. If it’s a great film, it will live the way beyond your wildest dreams. It will be talked about, written about, reviewed, screened and travel the world.  A building sits and gets old and out of date, but a movie lives on and a great film can survive in perpetuity.

William Byron Hillman © 2013

Web site: http://www.williamhillman.com

Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/author/williamhillman

Book Links:

Dream Searcher http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00EC19DJW

Let’s Sue ‘Em http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009M9E790

Veronique and Murray: http://tinyurl.com/8xrmmu7

The Hard Way: http://tinyurl.com/86hgtz6

Zebra’s Rock and Me http://tinyurl.com/7b28qu6

Quigley’s Christmas Adventure http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00ANVNQ6G

Rollie Kemp Books

Ghosts and Phantoms Part I: http://tinyurl.com/6wxef7g

Ghosts and Phantoms Part II: http://tinyurl.com/d7mtspu

APRIL: http://tinyurl.com/7gt9prd

Bad Rap: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00DNIHCYI

My next film:

Quigley’s Christmas Adventure

www.quigley2.com

On Facebook and Twitter

WILT CHAMBERLAIN and ME

WILT CHAMBERLAIN & ME

On my tenth birthday, I stood five feet two inches. I was short, and some called me a runt. Over the summer, I began to sprout. I grew out of everything so fast my parents thought I might be an anomaly. I was taken to several doctors, but they found nothing wrong.

My feet stopped growing first. Size eleven and a half. I hated looking down and thought I was wearing violin cases instead of shoes. My schoolmates made fun of my big feet, and I didn’t want to go back to school.

When my eleventh birthday rolled around, my foot size was no longer an issue. I had grown into a human tree. I stood six feet five inches in my bare feet. I towered over everyone in my family. At school, I was the tallest person in the building. No teacher, student or janitorial personnel measured in over six feet. Only the strongest of friends hung out with me as everyone else got out of my way when I came close. It was as though I had a disease, something catching and dastardly that would surely kill anyone who dared rub up against me or touch something I had already touched.

Then, as miraculously as it had started, it all stopped. My shoe size was twelve, and my height was six feet five inches. I was skinny, awkward, clumsy, and never met an object I couldn’t avoid bashing into. I didn’t know what dexterity meant, but I didn’t have any.

I was the epitome of a geek. It wasn’t that I was a nerd because I didn’t even fit in with that crowd. I was just that big guy. I was too tall to be anything, and that became lonely.

For over a year, I tried to be shorter. I bent over, walked weirdly and tried to be small and unnoticed. Nothing worked.

It was a Saturday morning when my grandpa walked into the backyard. The kid down the block had made fun of me, and I chose to feel sorry about everything. The wrath of life had fallen upon my twelve year old shoulders. Grandpa sat next to me. He said nothing, so I remained quiet.

“So?” I’ll never forget the touch of sarcasm he had in his voice.

“So what?”

“Yeah, why are you pouting like a baby?” Grandpa had a way with words.

“Awful big baby,” I mumbled.

“You’re right, you are unbelievably large. So why is the giant baby pouting?”

“I’m not.” I was equally bullheaded and stubborn.

“So why are you pouting?”

“I’m the tallest person in my school. Everybody makes fun of me.” Grandpa didn’t mind if I shed a tear like my dad did, but I had to have a sound reason to spill tears. I fought the tears back.

“You’re a freak, so get over it.” He wasn’t even looking at me when those words came from his mouth. He watched an old truck drive down the alley. “It’s too bad. Actually your getting so tall is downright sad. I don’t know what you can do with your life now that it’s over.”

“What am I going to do?” It was pathetic how sorry I suddenly felt about being as tall as I was.

Grandpa stood up so abruptly it startled me. “You’re going to come with me right now.”

I stood quite reluctantly as he grabbed under my arm and pulled me to follow. We were suddenly in a big hurry and grandpa was much stronger than I thought. I was on my way to something terrible, and he was dragging me to hurry and stay with him. “Where are we going?”

We took a bus ride to downtown Denver and got off on 16th Street, right in front of Daniels and Fisher department store. I had been to the building many times to see the Christmas decorations in their window displays, and to roam with gramps through the tallest building in Denver. This day, however, wasn’t a holiday or special occasion. Every time I looked up at the clock tower 20 stories up, it made me dizzy.

“C’mon,” my grandpa said and pulled me into the building. We walked down a hallway where a room had been cleared out. A small sign was posted on a pole. When we got close enough to read it, I wanted to run off. The sign stated: “TALL MAN’S CONTEST.”

“I’m not going in there.” I nearly shouted, causing others to look at me. I tried to shrink down and pretend I was shorter.

“Yes you are,” grandpa said firmly. He grabbed my arm and tugged me into the room. “Let’s see what kind of a freak you really are.”

“No!” I was near tears being humiliated by the man I loved. He was about to embarrass me in the worse way possible.

“There is no way out now, bucko.” He was very strong and with little effort dragged me into the room.

A woman stopped our momentum. “Has he been measured?” She said in a kindly voice.

“No,” my grandpa answered. “He’s probably too tall. He thinks he’s a freak. Will the measurement really embarrass him?”

“Well,” the woman said as she studied me from head to toe, “it probably will.”

“Then we can leave, right grandpa?”

“No, I think you should be measured. Tall freaks like you need to know the truth.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” I asked.

Grandpa turned back to the woman and smiled. She nodded as if she knew what he was asking without asking it.

“What is your name?” She asked me in that kind voice of hers.

“Billy,” I answered

“Come, Billy.” She took my hand. “Let’s see if you will qualify.”

Qualify? I wanted to shout, but it was too late. She led me into this small entryway where two poles were attached to a third forming an archway.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked.

“Let’s see if you can walk beneath the bar without hitting your head.”

I froze, and then grandpa pushed me. I moved forward, and my forehead touched the bar. I missed going under it by only an inch.

“You see?” I shouted angrily. “I’m too tall.”

The kindly woman laughed. I was humiliated. “No, you passed.” She looked at grandpa, and her smile actually grew. “You were right,” she said to him.

“I knew it,” grandpa said while looking at me.

“What’s all the shouting about, Mrs. Walker?” A powerful, deep male voice said from behind us. I was the first one to turn around and found I was looking into a man’s chest. My eyes drifted up as though I was peering up at the clock tower outside. The man was the biggest, tallest human being I had ever seen.

“This is Billy. I’m afraid he thinks he has grown to tall and has become a freak.”

“Really?” The tall man said. “Can he walk beneath the bar?”

“No,” the woman answered while still smiling. “His forehead touched the bar.”

“That’s excellent,” the tall man said loudly. He held out his hand to me. “My name is George, Billy, and before your arrival I was the shortest man in the room.”

“Shortest?” I repeated.

“Come with me,” George said and led grandpa and me into the huge room full of people, men and women. They were all taller than George and towered over me. I suddenly became the shortest person in the room. It was an amazing nanosecond to have the fear and anxiety lifted from my shoulders. Free from the weight of being intimidated, and then a feeling of safety engulfed me, and it was unbelievable to experience such relief. I found my body stretching taller, my neck straightening and the curve in my back disappearing. It was exhilarating. There were lots of people taller than I was.

While the experience was fantastic and what grandpa did was beyond anything I could have ever asked him to do, it didn’t totally cure the gawking I continued to receive over the following years. What it did do was give me a sense of pride, and I no longer felt inferior or out of place. As an adult, whenever my wife and I went out, people continued to stare.

Over the years, going here and there I would see another tall person. We always seemed to recognize our predicament being members in good standing, in the “tall club,” and did so with a look or nod. We were different, and most were proud of it.

In 1970, we planned a trip to Las Vegas. We attended the usual shows, played a few games, and then ended up in a place I always tried to avoid – a club with a dance floor. My wife loved to dance and back home we went out often. I always tried to pick clubs where I wouldn’t know anyone. In Denver that was hard to do, but in Los Angeles it was easy.

We sat and watched people dance. My wife wanted to join in, but once again that ugly old Mr. Embarrassment raised his head.

“I’m too tall, honey,” I said. “My head will stick out like a sore thumb.”

“If you go, I’ll go.” The man’s voice came from the table behind us.

We both turned and found Wilt Chamberlain, the basketball super star, and his pretty date sitting at the table behind us. The pretty date also wanted to dance, but Wilt didn’t.

“You feel as I do on the dance floor?” I asked.

“Worse. Listen, if you’re game enough to go down to the dance floor and wiggle your body, I’ll be right next to you.”

We introduced ourselves, chatted a few minutes and then got out on the dance floor. It was amazing. The feeling of standing out in a crowd disappeared. We stayed out on the dance floor, and side by side with, Wilt Chamberlain we danced half the night away.

Whenever we attended a Los Angeles Laker game, I always said hello to my Las Vegas dance partner. It always created a laugh and another shared story with one of his teammates.

Looking back, regardless of the type of person you are or where you’re from there are always little minions who dance and play with our brains. Everyone has little fears and most are able to hide them from others. On occasion, these little episodes expose the vulnerability we all have or the weakness we believe we possess. It only takes one great moment to put it all behind you. As Wilt and I discussed, it was silly to allow the kind of dance embarrassment we both felt when the chance of ever seeing anyone from that club again in our lifetime was minuscule. That alone gave us both a good laugh. We knew it was true, just hard to get over.

Since that night, my height has never been an issue or embarrassment. It was a little cure of something I grew up with, a form of being bullied for something totally out of my control. It was a nice weight to have been lifted from my shoulders. I wish everyone could be freed from the inhibitions that hound us all, and live freely without humiliation or being intimidated.

William Byron Hillman © 2013

Web site: http://www.williamhillman.com

Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/author/williamhillman

Book Links:

Dream Searcher http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00EC19DJW

Let’s Sue ‘Em http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009M9E790

Veronique and Murray: http://tinyurl.com/8xrmmu7

The Hard Way: http://tinyurl.com/86hgtz6

Zebra’s Rock and Me http://tinyurl.com/7b28qu6

Quigley’s Christmas Adventure http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00ANVNQ6G

Rollie Kemp Books

Ghosts and Phantoms Part I: http://tinyurl.com/6wxef7g

Ghosts and Phantoms Part II: http://tinyurl.com/d7mtspu

APRIL: http://tinyurl.com/7gt9prd

Bad Rap: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00DNIHCYI