I very much respect your opinion, letiole, but in this case I disagree. I have lived with pain, mine and other's, my entire life and honestly believe I am pretty darned good at understanding who does and does not "need" a handicapped parking space.

My Mother, who was born in 1914, contracted polio in 1925--she was hospitalized at that time and they told her at the time that she would never walk again. In those days, polio was a crippling and killing disease. She was in the hospital from the time she was 11 until she was 14. By that time she had learned to walk again. At the great celebration party for her release, the nurse fell and accidentally dropped a four-legged wooden bed table on my Mom's right knee, breaking her knee. At that time her right leg was fused, and she was told that she would never walk again. Her brothers carried her back and forth, up and down the hill to the creek below their home so she could swim to exercise her leg.

To make a very long story short she eventually, walked again, bore and raised four children, taught them all to dance, and, despite the fact that she could not bend her right leg at the knee for the last 70 years of her life, was still participating in competitive dance events at the age of 82. She maintained that you could do whatever you really wanted to do, no matter the odds. She taught us to be tough, and power through minor--even major--setbacks.

When I was young I hit the diving board while doing a back flip from a high-dive. I ruptured a disk and spent a long time on crutches, not knowing if I would ever be able to walk without crutches again, but I never gave up and worked very hard until I eventually regained all my mobility. My Mother had taught me that you just can't give up.

Years later, following a series of frequent pregnancies and miscarriages, I again lost control of my right leg and was again forced to use a crutch to walk for almost two years. During that time I kept remembering my Mom telling me that you are never handicapped until you decide to be handicapped--and that is the truth. Even when I was more than nine months pregnant and only able to walk with crutches, I refused a handicapped tag, knowing that the only way I was going to be strong and healthy was to fight to be healthy.

My first cousin (who is my age) was diagnosed with intermittent MS in her late 20s. She has had some extremely hard times but when she is OK, she is strong and can work and walk. When she is weak, it is patently obvious to even the most casual observer. She only uses her handicapped parking tag when she absolute must and at that time it is patently obvious that she needs it. Here is the truly sad kicker. About ten years after she was diagnosed with MS (three sons later), her husband was diagnosed with MS, but his was, sadly, progressive. He died a few years back at the age of 57.

It is not so much the cards we are dealt as the way we play them that dictates our functionality. Now, at age 60, I am stronger, more flexible and have far greater endurance than by far the majority of the 30 year olds that I know. I am confident that that is absolutely the result of the fact that my Mother demanded that we all refused to consider any physical setback as a handicap.

There are, of course, obstacles which we can't overcome, but 90% of the time we are in control of our own destiny, and able to overcome pain if we make up our mind that that is what we must do.

For young (80 and younger), relatively healthy folks with temporary problems, parking in a handicapped space is a form of giving up.