Gordon Kirkland
I May Be Big But I Didn’t Cause
That Solar Eclipse is award-winning Canadian humorist Gordon Kirkland's fifth
book. Three of his previous books received Canada's prestigious literary
award, The Stephen Leacock Award of Merit For Humour. His syndicated newspaper
column. Gordon Kirkland At Large, is enjoyed by readers in the United States
and Canada every week. He is also a frequent guest on radio and television
shows in both countries. In addition, he is in great demand as a speaker at
conferences, conventions, and festivals throughout North America.
An April 2006 profile of Kirkland in the
Canadian edition of Reader's Digest said, "Kirkland's specialty is making
others laugh at him, at themselves, and at life in general."
In this book, Kirkland once again takes on
subjects ranging from marriage to dealing with a canine companion. He looks at
the odd events of daily life, and even
finds humor in the experiences of moving and having a serious illness.
Gordon Kirkland has been called 'one of North America's premier humorists.' I May Be Big But I Didn't Cause That Solar Eclipse is the fifth book from the prolific Canadian author, syndicated columnist and entertains.
His first, Justice Is Blind – And Her Dog Just Peed In My
Cornflakes, won Canada’s
Stephen Leacock Award of Merit for Humour in 2000. His second, Never Stand Behind A Loaded Horse, won
the same award in 2005. Following the trend, his third book, When My Mind Wanders It Brings Back
Souvenirs, won him his third Award of Merit in 2006 . At this writing, we are waiting to hear what awards his fourth
book, I Think I’m Having One Of Those
Decades, might receive.
In addition to his books, his
weekly syndicated humor column, Gordon
Kirkland At Large, has appeared in Canadian and American newspapers since
August, 1994. In that time he has written hundreds of newspaper columns and
feature articles, a live comedy CD, a live audio book, and four volumes of
contact management information for writers.
Gordon's life and humor have been
profiled in magazines and newspapers throughout North America, including a
feature article in the April 2006 issue of the Canadian edition of Reader's
Digest. He has appeared on dozens of radio and television talk shows, as well
performing his material as in theaters and comedy venues.
He has twice been named to the faculty of the prestigious Erma Bombeck Writers' Workshop at the
University of Dayton in Ohio.
His outlook on life, which shines
through in his writing, makes him living proof that adversity and life's
difficult events can be handled successfully as long as you maintain your sense
of humor.
I have often admitted that I am big
for my age. I'm tall and I am wide. With my gray hair and beard, along with
that whole 'bowl full of jelly' thing I have working for me, small children
often mistake me for Santa Claus.
I tell them I am his younger,
better looking brother, Irving Claus.
A few years ago, after a total
solar eclipse, a friend, or so-called friend, asked if I had stepped in front
of the sun. Let's just say, we really don’t want to discuss my full moon, and
how well it might blot out the sun.
My size has always been a point of
conversation. I hit six feet when I was twelve years old, and added another
four inches by the time I was sixteen. My older brother stopped at
five-foot-nine, slightly taller than my father. My mother claimed to be
five-foot two. The only way she ever approached that height was if she stood on
top of the dog. It all served to make my height that much more noticeable.
Just what every slightly awkward,
pubescent teenager wants: something to make him more noticeable.
In high school I briefly dated a
girl who was taller than me. Other kids called her Amazon, but if they were
smart, not to her face or within her earshot. That was before I met and fell in
love with Diane, who like my mother, might come close to the height she claims
to be if she stood on the dog.
And we have a Labrador retriever.
When I stand by Diane, it just
makes it that much easier for people to realize that I am big for my age. My
sons even stopped growing an inch or two before they reached my height, but
they can thank their mother and her vertically deficient genes for that.
I can’t shop in normal menswear
stores or departments. Even the ones that do stock a few things for people
taller than the average munchkin, seem to have some odd ideas about clothes
sizes for the bigger set. One store that I visited had pants that matched my
waist size and pants that matched my inseam. They didn’t stock pants that
matched both my waist size and my inseam. I could be short and fat or tall and
thin, not big for my age in both dimensions.
I've written before about my
thoughts on the person who designed hospital gowns, most of which are shorter
than my shirts. I'm thinking about having a made-to-measure hospital gown
custom made for me in some Far East clothing sweatshop. Anyone who has ever
shared a waiting room with me probably wishes I already did. Seeing me in a
hospital gown is probably something that ends up being discussed in a future
therapy session.
The thing is, there are a lot of
people bigger than I am. In Louisville, Kentucky I once shared an elevator with
a woman who single-handedly exceeded the device's weight limit. I felt
downright svelte standing beside her. I was in a restaurant in Washington,
where I saw a woman who could not squeeze her entire girth onto a booth seat
designed for three people. Her food intake helped me suppress my appetite, and
proved to everyone in the place that her size had nothing to do with the
oft-cited excuse of 'it’s a glandular condition.'
Her grease intake could have
lubricated a fleet of Mack trucks.
When I visit one of those stores
that sell very large clothing, I am happy that I take the smaller sizes. On one
visit, I accidentally picked up a pair of men's 8XL bikini-brief underwear,
when I was looking for boxer shorts. If you sewed up all the openings and
filled it with helium, you would have a giant balloon float for a gay pride
parade.
So yes, I may be big, but I didn’t
cause that solar eclipse.
