I’ve Walked For Your Cure. Will You Walk For Mine?
Over the years, I’ve been very generous. And charitably mobile. I’ve donated significant amounts of money to organizations raising money to end the suffering of countless souls; and I’ve laced up my sneakers and risked the suffering of my only soles to walk in unity with legions of others, all hoping for new T-shirts puffed up with humble pride of selfless humanitarianism. (Translation: I walked for lots of causes and paid for the privilege.)
So, you want specifics, huh? What am I, running for President or something? Fine!
NOTE: (Each of these conditions affect either a family member or friend, so I take them serious. This post is in the spirit of zany good-funniness.)
- The Alzheimer’s Disease Association. I’ve raised money and walked for them on a number of occasions, but don’t quote me on the exact figures. I’m a little fuzzy on the details…
- The National Heart Association. I’m gravely concerned about the heartlessness of many Americans, that’s why everyone who has a heart should care about those who don’t.
- The Cystic Fibrosis Foundation. This is a serious condition and any hint of making fun of it would make people gag, so I just won’t do it.
- The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. Their annual walk is held during the hottest day of the summer. At high noon. They must use their swarms of psychic cats and an unusually literate parrot to pick the date in advance. As I panted profusely during one walk, I pondered the irony of potential heat stroke and their organization’s mission. I love irony, but not when it endangers my comfort. I send them a check each year and keep my pup with me in the AC.
News flash! I have some health problems of my own. But where is the walk to raise money for what ails me? These conditions need “The Cure,” too, you know. If you care and want to help, I have some handy tips for each
promising possible doubtful are-you-off-your-meds-again? charity walk:
- Plantar’s Warts. I’m sure Dr. Scholls would be a willing sponsor. Sure, the walk will be slow and there might be lots of complaining about sore feet, but that describes just about all “walk for The Cure” charity events.
- Chronic Fatigue. This walk will be difficult to organize. Finding people to attend will be an even greater challenge. Chronically fatigued people aren’t exactly known for their get-up-and-go. They’ll be no help organizing the walk. Speaking from experience, I won’t feel up to walking that day. Offering free shots of B-12 with a chaser of Red-Bull might draw some people in, but you may have to arrange for a shuttle service to pick up your walkers, drive them around the course, then bring them back home. Still, it sounds like way too much work to me.
- Irritable Bowel Syndrome. Okay. Stop snickering. First, you’ll need lots of Port-a-Potties along the walking route. Second, make it a short route and be ready for fast walkers. Third, no one will want to be at the head of the pack during the walk due to the “being downwind” issue. Over come these issues and the walk should be a blast.
- Hemorrhoids. Again with the snickering. This is serious. Have you ever had hemorrhoids? Have you ever tried to correctly spell hemorrhoids? It’s not easy to live with this condition nor will it be easy to have posters without spelling errors or rude graffiti. The walk route should have plenty of Tucks medicated pads for immediate relief of symptoms brought on my the charity walk. And, for the Love of Pete, look away when people dig at their butts. You will want your privacy when your time comes.
- Migraines. This walk should be held in the dark and in total silence. That shouldn’t be so difficult, should it?
- Insomnia. To guarantee maximum participation, begin the walk at 3:30 AM. Otherwise, plan and proceed as usual.
I was just at the grocery store and saw a woman sporting a T-shirt indicating she walked for kidneys. If kidneys can drum up a walk for their Cure, why can’t my hemorrhoids? And yours, too, of course.