Today was a red-letter day. After months of being cooped up
in the apartment, unable to get out other than to ride with friends to my
various doctor appointments, much less drive, I took the Buffalo-mobile out on
a spin. Well, truth be told, the first major breakthrough came yesterday when I
rode with my roommate down to The Cellar Club for an afternoon benefit concert
staged by my friend Tim Shook for a girl named Haylee. That story will appear
in the next issue of KUDZOO Magazine. I’m writing a little show review. Some
great music there for a great cause yesterday.
Today, I got into the van and headed to Advanced Auto for
some windshield wipers. The pair that were on there must have been 100 years
old. Well, maybe not that old, but they sure needed replacing before I ventured
over to Spinx to run the vehicle through the car wash. So, with my portable
oxygen in tow, I got the wash, and pointed the car toward Bi-Lo, where I had a
prescription to pick up. Oh, and some of those dark purple seedless grapes.
Better than candy.
I had my handicapped (temporarily!) placard ready, and when
I arrived there, five of the six handicapped reserve spaces were occupied. I
started to swing into the remaining one when I got got off by a 20-something
guy in a black Lexus with dark tinted windows. He just cut me off like an
annoying hangnail, and whipped it in. When he opened his door, the music came
barreling out at maximum. Nothing but bass. Jay Z.
I sat there with the placard on display as he leapt from his
ride and looked me right in the eye. I pointed at my handicap thingy. He just
shrugged and kind of laughed and kept on truckin.’ I drove around and found a
space elsewhere.
Now. True confessions time. Before I got sick, there were times
in the past where I would take the handicapped parking spot out of sheer
laziness. I guess I never realized how important it is to people with mobility
issues. For the time being, I am one of those. I have pulmonary hypertension,
which makes walking quite a challenge – the breathing part that is.
So the moral of the story is, I learned a lesson myself from
my homeboy at Bi-Lo. There’s a reason why these spaces are reserved. If you are
healthy enough to walk, leave those spots for the people that really need ‘em.
You never know when that person in need could be you.
-Michael Buffalo Smith
Hey MBS! Seventeen years ago, I was in a car accident that left me with nerve damage and spinal cord damage. After several years filled with surgeries and optimism, I went to my doctor and asked if I qualified for a handicap parking permit. It was during the Christmas season and I was having trouble carrying things from the Mall to my car. He said sure thing and I've had the benefit of handicap parking. I joke that there must be some advantage to all the pain I live with, but the truth is that without my placard, I'd be putting myself in more pain. I've become a self appointed handicap parking space cop. I don't hesitate to call the police or chastise violators.
ReplyDeleteI'm permanently disabled and my freedom is my car. One last point I'd like to make (and hopefully some of the people who plow parking lots will read this) is that handicap parking is not a convenient place to pile snow or get lazy and only plow part of. It's been a rough winter here in New Jersey and I can't even count how many handicap spots have gone missing to the stupidity of plow operators. Keep up the good work Michael!