Monday, February 28, 2011

Apocalypse you say? I predict a Jazzyocalypse.

 I'd like to take a moment to discuss an ever-growing problem in our society.  The jazzy. You might call it an electric scooter or simply a motorized wheelchair complete with handlebars, horn, and basket.  Regardless, unless you have successfully past your 75th birthday or have a real, diagnosed, and leg altering handicap then you should not be allowed behind the wheel (singular) of this contraption. C and I recently took a trip to Disney and narrowly escaped with our lives after being run off the road more times than I can count.  Apparently the whole evolution debate has been solved since I was in school.  Our metamorphosis must not be complete.  I guess I'm still waiting for my legs to disappear in lieu of a tail? Walking is so 1990's.  It is definitely so much better to be all Jabba the Hut and move around with the push of a joystick without wasting an ounce of exertion.  Now if only they had mind control.  And to put the cherry on top, apparently being king of a motor scooter is equal to being President Obama driving a Lamborghini on the Autobahn or a Ludacris song.....something along the lines of Move Bitch, getout tha way....  I felt like cattle being herded or a sleepwalking pedestrian who somehow managed to stumble upon their domain.  By all means, lay on your tiny horn and shout obscenities if I cross your path.  I'm pretty sure I will be able to pass by 10 feet in front of you even if you are driving at whopping top speeds of 2.3 mph.  You may think I won't be able to make it, but I assure you I am not a 3 toed sloth and I do not freeze in headlight (no s needed...I know you only have 1).  I am weary, however, when they start to congregate.  Lining up 6 long to terrorize those that still cling to their legs with dear life.  I have no advice for you here.  I wanted to put a stick in their wheel spokes but C said if I did he would leave me there to fend for myself.   I almost couldn't hold in my frustration when they would roll up to the front of the line of rides because goodness knows they can't wait in line with the rest of us.  Ohhhh no, their feet couldn't handle it.  One woman nearly busted a vein in her eye when she was told there was no special wheelchair entry for a ride because the regular line had already been equipped for it.  Twenty minute wait with the rest of these leg-using people while sitting down in a padded chair with armrests ???? How dare they!!!!!!!!!  Another woman in her 20's flew past us cutting across pedestrian traffic and came to a extreme hault in front of Mickey Fashion Apparel Store almost catapulting herself off her jazzy.  She jumped off like she was doing the long jump at the Olympics, leaving her jazzy parked half in entrance of the store, the other half into a rack of clothes.  It was like she had been cured by a magical healing Shaman for 5 minutes only.  Just enough time to buy a couple Mickey sweaters and a trucker hat with Goofy ears.  Stylin'.  And I don't even know how to go about the issue of the overweight jazzy rider.  Should I start with the fact that 90% of jazzys have a 250 lb weight limit.  The latter 10% go up to a 350.  But alas if you are dyslexic, by all means ride a jazzy if you are 530 lbs.  I swear some of them had to have been tricked out with concrete wheels a'la Flintstones (minus the foot power). The solution to your problem is most definitely to give up all means of physical activity and forced manual mobility while stuffing your face with Mickey popsicles and giant turkey drumsticks.  Maybe part of the problem would be that you no longer walk.  Like you NO longer walk from here                       to                   here.  Get it?   Look, I know a day at Disney is exhausting.  My feet were sore too and ya sure there was a small moment where I wondered what it would be like to have my own electrically powered chariot beeping at all the nuisances who dared to get in my path disrupting the momentum of my majestic transport.  But hey, it was a really big day when I learned how to walk and to be honest, I'm just not ready to forfeit that skill just yet.


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