Fat the Final Frontier
How do I get my handicap badge?
As I pulled into the parking lot at the new Wal-Mart Superstore looking for that choice spot (and of course never finding one), I started to notice that the availability of handicap parking spots was, well, somewhat disproportionate to the size of the parking lot. I mean, there were a lot. 25 to be exact, yeah 25!
Now, if you're like me (and why wouldn't you be?), you probably always made the assumption that handicap parking was for handicapped people, you know: wheelchairs, walkers, crippled up people with real handicaps. I always thought that was a fair deal, it just seems like the right thing to have - helping out your fellow man kind of thing. Indeed, that's what I thought. But I thought wrong.
There's a New Gimp in Town - I Wanna be Crippled too!
Now, as I started to take notice of the situation, and paid attention to the people who were using these special and desirable parking spots, it became disturbingly clear that handicap parking spots are now reserved for any individual willing to go the distance (or in this case, not go the distance if you will), to avoid movement. What I observed was: no one struggling with wheelchairs, no older disabled people trying to unfold their walker or unravel their tangled oxygen hose. I did not see the need for the very special status of handicap parking. What I did discover, by way of my very unscientific and voyeuristic approach, was that FAT, my friend, is the New Handicap.
Don't Make Me Walk Doc!
Yes amigos, your glandular problem or that crazy mysterious thyroid malfunction, and to no less an extent, that troublesome eating disorder has finally and at long last paid off. The handicap motherload if you will.
YES!
You are now the proud owner of a confirmed medical malfunction, and when the medical community throws its attention to a malady as heinous as yours, you can rest in comfort and confidence that help is on the way! The help this time comes in the form of a medical dispensation from the Pope Doctor (providing you have coverage from your HMO). This dispensation comes in the form of a blue and white hanging card that is placed on your rearview mirror for all to see and envy.
The "Get Out of Moving" Card
This parking privilege will at last relieve you of having to use up all your precious oxygen and muscle strength to trudge, god knows how many car lengths, to the front of the handicap side of the automatic doors at the portal of the cost-cutting giant. The energy saved here will be needed pal, because waddling your way to the quiet hum of your awaiting Lark, as it anticipates touch down of your ever-widening Play-Doh like ass to make contact with its very own simulated cowhide textured seat. Yes friends, the Fat have their own kind of hell that you and I could never possibly understand. Take these everyday tasks that you and I take so selfishly for granted, like sleep. Sleep for our oversized, challenged friends is nothing short of a complete set of maneuvers that would humble NASA on one of their space shuttle missions. Why, there is bending, wheezing, shortness of breath, the dizziness, the required moving process, not unlike a space walk, then touch down. Touchdown must be executed just right or you could cut off your own supply of oxygen by putting too much of your chunky carcass over your heart and lungs. "Huston, we have achieved obesity!"
Medical Community Declares Epidemic
Once again the congress and medical community have forged a very special bond to save us from ourselves. For its part, the medical community has now turned a keen eye to this situation and is bringing us all up to speed on this rapidly growing problem.
Dare we use the word Epidemic? Yes, we dare. Doctors and congress feel a strong need, a sense of commitment to investigate and of course appropriate funding for special committees and programs to see if anything can be done to stop this unstoppable freight train of trouble.
Hey, where's Bono?
We need someone of the highest order, to take control and guide us through these dark times so that we never forget the horrors of trying to navigate your Lark through the crowd at the State Fair. We must find the low-sodium Mrs. Field's cookie bucket, for crying out loud, its doctor's orders. Now, where is that low-cal pizza stand, I think they said left at taco village? Never lose sight of the fact that these "special needs" people have worked extremely hard to achieve this, and by this, I mean the ability of non-mobility.
So easy does it. Your pass to the good life is just within the grasp of your Cheeto stained fingers. Let those other schmucks park in lot 10, row 43 - hell, they'll never see the entrance to Mega Mart. Not you my friend, you are now wheezing distance from shopping nirvana, hallelujah!
What's your point?
The nut of this well-mannered tirade and the one thing I see far to often is a complete lack of any real desire. There is no passion for life, no commitment to oneself, or anyone or anything. Imagination is now replaced with Utube. As far as having a passion, people replace their human relationships with food relationships. Food now sustains their emotional needs, doesn't judge, doesn't have any point of view and is always there.
America is not home right now, thanks for stopping by. So how did this happen: mass unconsciousness to be sure, as well as, every political hack, every religious zealot, especially Falwell, who finally got the call to play the big room in his religious nirvana (two shows a night, enjoy the veal and don't forget to tip your cherubs and angels, thanks for coming). The biggest of all of these perpetrators is the media; their very existence relies on (making up) news. If there is no dilemma, there is no Oprah! They create the hot new trends that the Lark driving Americans just love to fall short of.
Put your fork down and listen. This is not some sort of cruel indictment on people in real pain. It's a slap at everybody else that sees pain and suffering as a fashion statement. This cheapens the core truth. It's turned into a way to achieve attention from a society that is emotionally not home, the truth. The inner thought system is always reflected through the physical.
I mean, folks, it's just as simple as knowing not to stuff your head in a blender to comb your hair. Things are only complicated by ego/fear and the truth of this downfall is no self-respect. The extreme version of this is people eating themselves into critical mass then demanding compassion and concern. By receiving attention from the medical community and, of course, by the media proclaiming their sad story, (I know, lets build them a house)...and all of it accomplished from the comfort of your Lark. The word self-loathing comes to mind. So, until our society starts to deal in the whole concept of truth, you would be very wise to invest in the electric cart companies and plan on walking a lot further to the entrance of any store.
Bon appetit!