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This is a walleyed snot nosed hissy fit.  Duck, because I’m pitchin’ that sucker today.

About 10 years ago, there where only 2 handicapped parking places at our courthouse.  I complained loudly and bitterly about it.  The old fat white men who ran the county tried an end around around the Americans With Disability Act by counting the courthouse annex – which is located in a whole ‘nother town – as “the courthouse complex” and put about 50 handicapped parking spaces there.

This worked out handily for them because they reserved all the parking places in front of the courthouse for themselves.  I worked for a newspaper then and I took pictures of these elected officials parking their SUV’s at the front door of the courthouse and then waddling the twenty feet to the front door.

Meanwhile, the elderly and the infirmed had to park a block away and do the best they could walking over rough roads to get to the courthouse to conduct business.

By my threatening to sue over the end run of the ADA, we got a couple more parking spaces at the courthouse.  But, not enough.

I have been attending a trial at the courthouse  the last couple  weeks.  So far, I have managed to get a handicapped parking space only once – when I got there after 2:30 on a Friday.

There are 8 handicapped parking spaces and it appears that most of them are used by handicapped county employees.  However, there are two parking spaces on the front row and 11 more on the row directly across from that — all reserved for judges and elected officials.  There’s a  movie of it right here

Public servant, my patootie!  These old fat white guys place their pleasure over the needs of the sick and infirmed.

So, here’s my plan.  Number One:  if those healthy white guys cannot walk a block to collect a paycheck (which, by the way, we should start gift wrapping), then I’m voting against every damn one of them.  Second, I’m gonna start doing bed checks.  You’re going to see me on Friday afternoons taking pictures of who isn’t parked in their spot.

I’m not joking, Elected Officials.  This is war.  And if you’ve got the same little arrangement at the new courthouse, I will open a website called WhereIsMyJudge dot com and make your lives miserable.  That’s a damn promise.

This morning, I saw an elderly woman with a walker have to traverse the potholes and the traffic to get to the courthouse she bought to see an elected official she is paying.  And that’s when I went over the edge.