Heart and Soul

Sunday, March 20, 2005

Searching for a Cure

To date, there are no emergency bulletins being issued by the American Medical Association. Shocking health reports aren’t being touted by the media. No Celebrity spokespersons are speaking out, no charity telethons underway.

Never the less, I’m here to tell you that there is an invasive malady worming its way into our lives. It’s a relentless illness attacking both men and women with a vengeance, often leaving victims disoriented, drifting, and unable to speak.

Currently there is no official name for this infectious disease, but as one who has suffered its effects I feel that it’s my duty to bring the medical affliction to light. So in an attempt to create public awareness and support, I have officially christened the endemic woe, "Parkinglatte Automobilum Missingus (PAM)" or more simply stated, "Hey…I can’t find my car."

This disease is generally transmitted in mega mall parking lots where it lies in wait below the blacktop for just the right moment to attack. As innocent men and women confidently emerge from their cars and securely lock their doors, PAM germs begin spreading in weblike formation. While unaware victims focus on their various mall missions, these insidious germs begin their warfare, slowly lifting cars and relocating them, rows and even entire sections away from where their defenseless owners left them.

PAM symptoms become full blown as unsuspecting car owners emerge from the mall and head for their parking spots, only to find their autos mysteriously missing. The immediate effect is one of cool disbelief wherein sufferers calmly stroll around the general area trying to appear as if in total control, while desperately searching for their vehicles.

As the malady progresses, increased body temperature causes beads of perspiration to form across the bridge of sufferer’s noses and rivulets to flow down their arms. The infected then exhibit preliminary signs of incoherence as their walking patterns evolve into circular paths and they softly begin babbling about the F1 lightpost under which they clearly remember parking.

As the affliction advances to the final stages, sufferers loose all sense of security and succumb to the ravages of disorientation, stridently pacing up and down row after row of vehicles. Within minutes, the fast spreading disease stimulates a delirium that forces victims to accost total strangers, loudly ranting what doctors agree upon as the defining symptom, "Hey…I can’t find my car." At this point the emotional variation among patients ranges from lopsided grinning, to tears, to unabashed anger. However, the good news is that all symptoms eventually diminish upon the sufferer’s re-discovery of their car, which fortunately, always happens.

Unfortunately, even though victims do manage to overcome PAM, research clearly indicates that this is a recurring disease which, once suffered, will not only continue but increase over time.

So I’m calling on my fellow disease ridden sufferers to join with me in forming a PAM SPAM coalition for the purpose of eradicating this terrible disease. The organizational meeting will be held Sunday at high noon in the nearby mega mall parking lot. Just pull in the main entrance and look for me.

I’ll be the one bungee tied to the top of my car with a bazooka….just in case.
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