Sunday, February 26, 2006

Me and the Midgets

I just got back from Kentucky where I attended the annual Paducah Midget Festival. Now it may seem odd being 6' 7" and going to a midget festival, and that's because it is. I usually pass on these things these days, but as a three time winner of the Clay County Fair midget tossing bonanza, I sometimes want to relive the glory days.

It's all bitter sweet, as I've been retired from the circuit since my partner Oscar died in a tragic midget bowling accident. You form quite a bond as a giant-midget pair, and he really loved to be thrown about--for distance, for height, and he was great at accuracy. I'd toss him up and he'd land like a laser guided bomb. Well, now I needed to find myself a new partner.

I figured I'd start by making a showing at the local Holiday Inn, knowing the bar would be a good place to begin. I walk in there, and it's like a scene out of the Star Wars Cantina, only with midgets doing karaoke--well, I see all that once I look down, as it looked like an empty bar at first. I guess I must have made a grand entrance, as everyone seemed to take notice. The bartender didn't exactly make me welcome by saying we don't serve there kid here, as he pointed at me. Oh well, I guess I didn't need a beer that bad. So I got down on my knees and crawled about, meeting and greeting the little folk.

I soon discovered that no one really wanted to be tossed (apparently dwarf tossing is an extreme sport among little people), and they actually were just there to be around other little folks. Fortunately they saw past my ignorance and enormousness, and we became friends. They shared their beer, and we all toasted Oscar. Stretch even sang Free Falling in his honor. Before long, the proclaimed me an honorary midget--er little person, and when I left, they would take turns crawling on top of the bar to be able to stand on the bar and give me a hug.

I didn't get to toss a midget, but it was a worthwhile trip. I was able to put the passing of Oscar behind me, meet new friends, and I realized that the rednecks back home can be quite cruel. I still don't feel bad, as I knew I helped Oscar live his dream. Oh, and I found out that the annual national midget tossing convention is on the other side of Kentucky, in Buckhorn.

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