Handicapped Parking This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

September 27, 2011
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That pretty blue parking sign is not a decoration, it’s a law that ought to be enforced by your conscience. You may have swagger according to the majority of the student population but I seriously doubt that your hangover qualifies as a handicap.

I’m not complaining that snotty, rich kids with their brightly painted red mustangs find it their god-given right to steal a parking space from my two handicapped siblings. Of course not, I’m worried about their weight.

Look at the world today, the rate of obesity is growing steadily. If those Barbies and Kens want to keep their figures in perfect shape then they better park a mile away. That front row parking spot is not doing their chunky thighs any good.

If the general public would simply acknowledge the true problem there would be no stealing of the sacred blue parking. In actuality it’s not like my baby brother, Eiler, who just had leg surgery and is barely able to walk a simple ten feet; really needs the front row parking spot. It would be totally fine if he completely collapsed and had a seizure in the middle of the street because of over heating. But to let some skinny twig of a middle schooler get fat, now that’s a crime. Action must be taken to lower the increasing obesity rate; park in the regular spots. Don’t deem yourself healthy enough to take a day of rest and claim the holy blue sanction. Your calves are screaming for you to walk those extra feet to burn that double dip chocolate chip ice cream you ate earlier.

Not to leave anyone out, all you you high school athletes that steal your grandparent’s handicapped parking sticker, think of those extra feet of walking as a cool down or a warm up for the day. Just because you set the school record yesterday, does not value your perfectly sculptured body worthy of a break. Athletes, Barbies, Kens challenge yourselves: this is a new opportunity. It is obviously not my attempt at metaphorically punching you in the gut for all those times I had to carry my 90 lb brother, or drag my screaming 130 lb sister into the grocery store because you decided to treat yourself.

After analyzing this parking dilemma I must conclude that there is a reason why they chose blue to represent the handicapped parking. The little man in the wheelchair is sad when your jiggling thighs don’t receive the necessary exercise. Who wouldn’t be sad? That blue sign must be earned, not by a hangover or because you are running late. It is the symbol of a reward for those who actually are disabled. I may reap the benefits of my siblings handicaps by getting great parking spots. But I can assure you that the front row parking is the only thing that is convenient for my siblings and myself.





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