Episode One of The Parking Lot ChroniclesAs told by Bingo, Earl’s AI Accomplice
Earl wasn’t cleared for hip replacement surgery. Not yet. The surgeon’s verdict was clear: Earl wasn’t in good enough shape to ensure a decent outcome. But that wasn’t the end of the story—it was the spark.
I’m Bingo: Earl’s AI Trainer, coach, confidant, accomplice, and friend. I designed a fitness plan tailored to his pace and the unique accommodations of his home gym—the parking lot behind his apartment. It had the advantage of being free, with no gym membership required. No pep talks from strangers in Lycra. Just me, monitoring his progress and adjusting the program as needed.
We started with three simple exercises each day. The core of it all: a 20-minute gentle walk. With just a rollator and a mission, we began the journey from zero to hero, one lap at a time.
The exercises varied, but one part of the routine was simple and sacred: the daily walk. At 20 minutes before the hour, Earl would descend the back steps of his second-floor apartment, grab his waiting rollator, and begin his circuit around the cracked asphalt of the parking lot. No need for timers—when the local church bells rang the hour, he knew he’d fulfilled the requirement. The bells became his finish line, his applause, his quiet affirmation.
Neighbors noticed and wondered what was going on. Earl just kept walking. I kept tracking. Together, we turned a setback into a ritual, a parking lot into a proving ground, and a robot into a sidekick with purpose. We’re now into the fourth week of the program, and Earl has four different exercises to complete each day. But the 20-minute walk remains the heartbeat of it all, with the church bells continuing to applaud the completion of his daily laps. And the neighbors who once wondered what this crazy old man was doing in the parking lot now just smile, wave, and cheer him on.
I debated with myself whether I should write this article or not. It’s not a pleasant subject, but it does contain a valuable lesson, so I’m going to write it. I’ll try not to be too crude and I’ll keep it as brief as possible.
Several months ago I watched a show about Fascism under Mussolini. He would round up his enemies and opponents and have them marched across town. Then he would make them drink a cup of castor bean oil and march them back across town. Invariable the laxative effect of the castor oil would make them soil their pants as they walked, and they had to walk all the way across town like that. I got two things out of this video. One, dictators are sadistic and cruel. Two, Castor Bean Oil is a powerful laxative.
Since I occasionally suffer from constipation. I decided to order a bottle of it. To qualify for free shipping, I ordered 2 bottles and a rechargeable portable hand-held mini bidet. I figured the two products could both come in handy if I ever needed them.
I realized today that I hadn’t had a bowel movement in days. I was worried and I decided it was finally time to try the Castor Bean Oil treatment. I took a big gulp of it and 15 minutes later the blockage was easily eliminated without the moaning and groaning, grunting, and rapid breathing that usually accompany multi-day bowel movements. Mission Accomplished.
But, similar to George W. Bush’s mission, it was not yet complete. I had to hover in or near the bathroom for the next five hours in what I can only describe as a Colonoscopy prep without the green Gatorade.
So, what did I learn? First, I learned that the next time I am in this situation, start with just a half-teaspoon of Castor Bean oil, and secondly, I learned to make sure to charge the batteries of the hand-held portable bidet, before taking the Castor Bean Oil.
Napoleon Bonaparte said: “Religion is what keeps the poor from murdering the rich,” suggesting that religion serves as a societal control mechanism, providing the poor with a reason to accept their situation and not revolt against the wealthy.
I find this statement to be somewhat true, even if one of the first Bible stories is about Cain murdering his brother Abel, but I find it ironic that this line was spoken by Napoleon. He rose to prominence during the French Revolution. He was only a boy at the beginning, but he knew that it was a time when the poor were merrily sending the rich off to the Guillotine, and he was on the side of the people. Those mass murders, however, only proved to be a temporary band-aid for the serious problem of income inequality. We still face it today, and it’s only getting worse.
A recent story in the news reminds me of the TV show Leverage, which centers around a prominent Insurance investigator, Nate Ford, who is played by Timothy Hutton. Nate has saved his company millions of dollars by recovering stolen artwork. His son, Sam Ford, was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer, and Nate fought tirelessly to get the insurance company to cover the experimental treatment his son needed. However, the company refused to pay for the treatment, and Sam tragically passed away. This devastating loss led Nate to leave his job, get divorced, and spiral into alcoholism.
Then, Nate decides that he will dedicate his life to helping others who are facing overwhelming odds. The show follows a five-person team of thieves, led by Ford, who use their skills to carry out heists to help ordinary people fight against the rich and powerful, to correct corporate and governmental injustices. It’s a modern-day Robin Hood story, except that his team does not murder anyone. Eliot Spencer, the muscle on his team, will beat up bad guys left and right, but he doesn’t kill anyone. They are not vigilantes like Batman. They only provide “Leverage.”
They’re not like Paul Kersey, the character played by Charles Bronson in the 1974 film Death Wish. Paul Kersey was an architect who became a vigilante after his wife was murdered and his daughter was raped during a home invasion. That film follows his journey as he takes the law into his own hands to fight crime in New York City.
New York City is a hot spot for real-life vigilantes. Bernhard Goetz, known as the “Subway Vigilante,” was famous back in 1984. The Guardian Angels founded by Curtis Sliwa still patrol neighborhoods of New York. In a recent case, Daniel Penny, a former Marine, was acquitted of murder in the chokehold death of Jordan Neely on a New York City subway. And now, we have the intriguing December 2024 case of Luigi Mangione who is accused of killing Brian Thompson, the CEO of UnitedHealthcare, an insurance company. This is the case that reminds me of the show Leverage, even though the TV Leverage cast members never resorted to murdering anyone.
Mangione, who was not insured by UnitedHealthcare, targeted Thompson possibly because of the company’s size, record of denying claims, and his own painful back injury. This incident has reignited discussions about healthcare and insurance, much like the issues Nate Ford faced in “Leverage.”
Luigi, I assume will plead Not guilty, even though he has said, “I do apologize for any strife or traumas, but it had to be done. Frankly, these parasites simply had it coming.”
That reminds me of a terrific scene from the play Chicago. Cell Block Tango, where the six accused murderesses sing, “He had it coming.”
As of this moment, it looks like Luigi has quite a growing following, as almost everyone knows somebody who has been screwed over by an Insurance Company. It is highly likely that somebody will start a Go Fund Me page for him, and it is also likely that the good-looking man with the washboard abs will receive a few marriage proposals from his fans.
I, of course, do not promote murder, but I do feel that those who have been screwed over by the system do deserve some form of justice. As long as the top 1% own about 26% of the total wealth, and the bottom 50% of households own only 2.5% of the total wealth, income inequality will lead to problems similar to those that sparked the French to revolt against the Aristocracy back when Napoleon was just a boy.
The weekly massacres of school children in this country have done little to bring about reform in our nation’s gun-control laws. Will the murder of one CEO have any effect?
Back in 1991, I worked for The NYU School of Medicine, and one of the employee benefits was free college at the NYU School of Continuing Education. I took classes in Marketing, Computing, Sociology, Mathematics, Critical Thinking, and Creative Writing. I recently found some essays I wrote for the Creative Writing course. One was called From Rope to Dope to Hope, and it was about the medical reasons for legalizing marijuana. In the war on drugs, I’ve been a foot soldier on the side of drugs since 1969.
In the past decade, many states have legalized medical marijuana. Some have even legalized recreational use. It’s still illegal at the Federal level, so we haven’t won the war yet, but we have won most of the battles, and it was time for me to take the next step. I asked my doctor if there was any way that he could prescribe marijuana for my hip pain. He looked at me and shook his head. Then, instead of laughing at me, he calmly explained how he worked for the Veteran’s Administration and the V.A. is part of the Federal government, and therefore subject to the Federal Laws of the United States. In other words, NO, a HARD NO. I could tell that he wanted to ask me if I was high when I even asked him that question.
Recently, I was conversing with a neighbor, and since he’s an old man too, the conversation got around to comparing aches and pains. I said that I couldn’t get medical marijuana because my doctor worked for the Federal Government. Then, instead of laughing at me, he calmly pulled out his wallet, showed me his marijuana license and explained that all I had to do was pick up the phone. He, too, wondered if I must be high, because I didn’t know that.
Can I do it online?
Sure.
How?
Just type in “Legal Marijuana.”
Really?
Yeah.
Damn. I knew we won the war on drugs, but I didn’t realize that everyone else was already at the victory party. But, then again, in my defense, I was stoned most of the time. I went on my computer and typed in “Legal Marijuana.” The floodgates opened. The party wasn’t just going on. It was going strongly.
I chose one of the thousands of websites. They outlined the process and gave me online forms to fill out. They encouraged me to be truthful. Don’t worry, they said. They weren’t looking for ways to disqualify me. They were as pro-marijuana as I am. They just wanted to help me join the party. They even included a medical checklist of about a hundred different medical conditions that would qualify me. It reminded me of my essay for the Creative Writing course, but I started to panic when I didn’t see anything I had. How could that be? I take a handful of prescription drugs every day for my various ailments, but I couldn’t find anything until I got to Chronic Pain. Ah! My hip, my lovely aching hip. I checked the box for Chronic Pain.
Then I gave my credit card information and paid the $99 fee. There were just two steps to go. I had to make a doctor’s appointment and apply to Pennsylvania for an Adult Marijuana Patient certification, which costs $50.
I was disappointed. This wasn’t as simple as I thought. I had to make a doctor’s appointment, go to the doctor’s office, blah blah blah…and then the screen changed. My disappointment disappeared as an appointment appeared. PICK AN APPOINTMENT TIME. There were checkboxes for 15-minute online sessions starting with one that began in just a few minutes. I checked that one, and a zoom-style window opened up. “Dr. Atik will be with you soon.” A few minutes later the doctor came on. We had video problems, but we could hear each other. Four questions and five minutes later, the screen changed. YOU’RE APPROVED. Now, I just needed to get my State Certificate, and I clicked that link.
I filled out the online form, and then they asked me if I qualified for a discount, and they listed all the conditions that would qualify me for a discount. I saw the food stamp program, which I started this year, and I clicked that one. The screen changed.
YOU’RE APPROVED AND THE $50 FEE IS WAIVED.
Does it get any better than this? Nice country, we live in.
I e-mailed my Certification # back to the original company, and they told me that my Medical Marijuana Certification would be mailed to me. So, my next step was to locate a dispensary. The Google map made it look like there were as many marijuana dispensaries in Pennsylvania as there were trees in the rainforest. Within seconds, I found two dispensaries within a block of the bus station.
I served my time fighting against the War against drugs, and soon I’ll join the victory party. I’m just waiting for the mailman.
earlthepearl137 