You're not going to believe what we did. I mean, this was a once in a lifetime chance so we had to do it. Sure, it wasn't politically correct. That's why we had to do it.Sam called me up at home and left two messages. The National Conference of The Little People of America was being held at the Marriott July 2nd through the 9th. That's right. 2500 little people were in town. Portland was overrun with little people.

Now, I will be the first to admit that singling out people as oddities to be examined is entirely wrong. People shouldn't do it. We are a diverse species with a range of sizes, colors, proportions, religions, and aesthetics. We should embrace everyone's diversity, learn from one another, and grow into truly sensitive people that can appreciate how unique we all are. Kuumbayah!

OK-so I'm going to Hell anyway-I might as well be honest. Though I would never want to hurt anyone's feelings, I've just got to say it. Who doesn't want to see a room full of midgets? I mean, come on...Midgets for days...Amber waves of midgets...Midgetfest. It sounded so surreal. How could I pass up the opportunity?

So Sam, Sara, Dassi, and I became the away-team beaming down to the planet's surface. Have you seen Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me? Mini-Me has basically ignited a renaissance of dwarf/midget humor. Little people are funny again. I can't help it. If you see the movie, you'll know what I mean.

Sam told me to bring the tallest shoes I had. Sam and I had pretty tall shoes for being boys, with big clunky waffle-soles and sturdy heels that made us at least two inches taller if not pushing three. So we were both around 6'4. Sara is pretty tall. She showed up in these 8-inch stilettos with a 2-inch platform under the toes.Ê But to truly outdo everyone, Sara wore a big tall turban. (SAM: "Sara, the hat. That's hilarious. You just had to be the tallest." SARA: "No, it's because you were rushing me. I didn't want to leave the house with wet hair.") So Sara was towering too. It was too funny. Dassi is only 5'2, so even in her tallest shoes she's never more than maybe 5'7. Still, we were dressed for an adventure. We were all monochromatic to appear even taller.

On the street, a woman rolled down her window and yelled at Sara, "Love the shoes, seriously." So we threw a volley of pop-its at her.

Sam was the most into it, announcing, "Come on you guys! We've got to get there! I don't know why, but I'm afraid that they'll all be gone by 11:00!" We drove down and you wouldn't even believe it. We drove by the porte-cochere-droves of midgets. (Sam kept calling them "midgets" all night even though most were dwarfs, so that word is the one that became the word of the day.) Sam was in hysterics, freaking out. We all had pockets of pop-its. We parked. We approached the Marriott. We really had to get the laughing out of the way.

We thought that maybe there would be a half-dozen of them in the lobby bar for us to watch sipping a drink or two. Maybe a little guy that had too much to drink would hit on Sara or Dassi. The goal of the evening was to "make a few new friends". It was more than you could imagine, midgets everywhere. They were in the lobby. They were sitting on the carpeted stairs to the banquet hall with their tiny little legs dangling. They were in the elevators. They were boppin' around everywhere. Standing on footstools at the courtesy phones in the lobby. Rolling around on little teeny tiny mopeds with three wheels. Click-clacking along on tiny pumps with tiny skirts. It was just too much.

We didn't utter a peep. We didn't even giggle. We just kept saying to each other loudly, as though we belonged, "I think she said to meet her over there..."

Then Sara walked into a corner and said she needed to go or she'd lose it. Sam said, "Not until I see the banquet hall." So Dassi, Sam, and I went down the escalator to check it out. It was way too much. I mean, picture a prom, but in miniature. It was a mini-prom. I mean, there were like at least a hundred tables around the low-lit room filled with little people. There was a dance floor that was about 30'x30' filled with dancing little people. There were maybe three people out of five hundred that were over 5' tall, besides the three of us. Sam smiled and whipped out his camera, "Lance, I think we should take a picture of you."

I said, "I think that might be too much." I couldn't have handled it. I would have either laughed or cried. So we zipped up, found Sara, and were out of there. The one sobering thing that I noticed was how many children of average size were running around. Then it occurred to me that they were the children of some little people.

Now I don't want to get all sappy and special here. This isn't an after-school special about how I realized that I was wrong to invade a conference of little people, how I realized people are all people regardless of their packaging. I already know that. I offended no one. I hurt no one's feelings. I didn't do anything other that walk through a hotel full of midgets for the novelty of it. There's not much shame in that. But what I will tell you is this, Sam made the best joke. He asked if they trick the midgets into thinking they're getting a king-size bed by turning a twin sideways and pushing it up against the wall.

-Lance

Midget humor is always funny. That Randy Newman sure knew what he was talking about.

krista-

I enjoyed the urine party story. It reminds me of a story my friend told me about some other acquaintance of his. It seems that this guy, named Adam, showed up to a Halloween party as Christopher Reeves. I am not talking "Superman-era", but present day/very cripple Xtopher. His costume didn't go over very well with the crowd(mostly lame Orange County-surfer types) and so to really aggravate the party, he wet himself. Without the depends. I think he was escorted out as the last trickle hit the floor. Apparently, Adam has also been known to attend parties and poop on the resident's bed. I dont think I can support that (not too into poopoo hi-jinx) Is it any wonder that he is on disability for being insane? I think not.

sincerely,
joe

Dear Krista;

Thanks for "The Scaredy-Cat Stalker," which we enjoyed immensely, and not only because of your really, really nice story about us. We, too, retch at TV's Buchmans. (Although strangely, in that show's early days we used to watch and enjoy it; now even re-runs of those early shows make us want to puke [perhaps because we know what it will become].)

You're right, we don't have kids. We like animals too much to waste precious time on humans. We have had a few beloved cats over the years, but ever since we got a parrot, we've been catless out of fear for the bird's welfare. Currently we have the bird, two dogs, and two much-adored horses.

Sure, we'll adopt you. Do you come with a dowry?

And finally, no, I'm no fat-phobe.

Best wishes,
Michael

I love The Sterns! But I've never put my gushy, rambling thing I wrote about them up yet (it's no good without the photos). Visit their "Wish You Were Here" corner of epicurious.com for a taste of what they're about.

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