After my return column was published in Sunday’s The Sun News, I received a ton of feedback, mostly well wishes. They are all appreciated, so excuse me if I use one of the less-flattering ones as a jumping off point in this post, as well as in my next column, concerning the reaction to the latest Atlantic Beach Memorial Day Bikefest.
But first …
Many people responded to the part in the column in which I noted that I was recovering from the auto immune disorder CIDP. So did this reader, providing me an opening to give a few more details about it:
“Glad to hear you have a crippling disease. Obviously the socialist liberal anti white [sic] commie rot in your brain has spread to your body. Maybe you should pray to Obama your god for salvation. Except he doesnt [sic] care about useful idiots like you. Hopefully it afflicts your fingers so you can no longer spew your disgusting racialist commie tripe.”
It came from unnamed reader X Bone at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Glad to hear you have a crippling disease
In truth, it is a crippling disease in the short-term and potentially the long haul, too. My whole world change after being diagnosed in early December, then seeing the disorder progress rapidly early this year. It was as though I aged 40 years in 40 days. I spent weeks in and out of wheelchairs and on crutches. All of my major muscle groups atrophied – and badly.
Hopefully it afflicts your fingers so you can no longer spew your disgusting racialist commie tripe.
It definitely has afflicted my fingers. The muscles in my hands, particularly between m thumbs and index fingers, all but dried up. And, yes, there several weeks I could neither type nor write with a pencil or pen to spew my disgusting racialist commie tripe, though I’m not what racialist means.
Anyway, after several setbacks and disappointments, I’ve been on the long, slow road to recovery thanks in large part to monthly infusions of steroids. I’m not where I want to be. I’m still quite weak, but nearly as weak as I was.
Maybe you should pray to Obama your god for salvation.
It’s always been funny to me how the main people referring to Obama as God or the Messiah are those who hate him and his supporters. Weird? But this condition has forced me to think through my faith more, and in new, deeper ways – one of the reasons readers like this one no longer anger me - which I’ll be sharing more about in the coming weeks.
For more information on just what CIDP is, check out this website: http://www.gbs-cidp.org/home/cidp/cidp/
In the meantime, here is a different reader who has an informed and interesting view about the differences between being a Yankee and living in the South:
ISAAC [sic]: I just read one of your articles, and I was not aware of your illness. Hopefully, you will overcome it with desire and dedication. I am a part-time resident of Myrtle Beach and a Buckeye by birth. My experiences as a Midwest "Yankee" are somewhat opposite of yours in New England. I attended and graduated from Middle Tennessee State University in the 1960s and later earned a doctorate at Vanderbilt. In 1965, one of my first experiences was a visit to the barbershop in Murfreesboro. At that time, the 'boro was a deep South town of about 20,000, unlike the current 110,000. The middle Tennessee area was a center of Civil War history. I had played baseball, basketball with Blacks, had eaten meals, stayed overnight, and socialized with little thought about race. When I entered the shop, I noticed two Black shoeshine men on the left and three white barbers on the right. They casually talked with one another about their families and upcoming football games, but there seemed to be an imaginary line in the shop's center which neither group crossed. I tried to fake my uneasiness about this cultural shock. At that time, there were separate school systems; integration came in 1968 and there was little discord among students, but many parents were uneasy and suspicious. Allow me to advise that, as a Southerner, you not fall into the trap of comparing the rural South to areas of the urban North. There are many "Norths"----some urban, some suburban, some very rural. New England has little in common with the rural Midwest---Boston is unlike my hometown of Newark, Ohio. Within a thirty minute ride to the south of Newark, one could believe that they were in East Tennessee except for the speaking accent, which has an Appalachian twang. I often chuckle when I hear or see the term Black community--there are many different Black communities, just as there are many different areas in the North, which apparently stretches from New England to the Great Plains with numerous, varying cultures in different regions and districts. I think of myself as a Midwesterner, with as much in common with Southerners as New Englanders. When the Babe Ruth Baseball national tournament was held in Newark, the Brooklyn team was given a tour of a local dairy farm. Much to their amazement, milk actually came from cows and did not mysteriously arrive at groceries. Their coaches had to limit the number of hot dogs the players could eat, since prices here were much cheaper. To me, the differences are appealing and enrich the uniqueness of our country. Good Luck with your health concerns. Sometime we should talk about our various experiences. Sincerely, Dave DeLong