FROM
GATOR JIBES TO DIATRIBES: READERS RESPOND
If you
know any shrimp personally, you might tell them to get out of town. As
soon as I finish writing this, I am off to the exquisite little Georgia
Sea Grill on St. Simons Island to stuff my face with copious amounts of
the corn-fried variety.
Before I
go, I need to clean out my overflowing mailbox. It has been a busy few
weeks, thanks to Bible thumpers, dog lovers, Michael Vick apologists,
Florida Gators, political prognosticators and liberal weenies.
I have
discovered that Florida Gators have a good sense of humor. My lament on
the State Department of Revenue’s creation of a state license plate for
University of Florida supporters brought a lot of good-natured and
well-aimed jibes. Gators are totally unrepentant. (Why shouldn’t they
be? If my Bulldogs were national champions in two major sports, I would
be a little sassy myself.)
Even
State Revenue Commissioner Bart Graham got in on the fun and wrote a
semi-funny rejoinder to my column. I didn’t realize revenue
commissioners had a sense of humor. State Sen. Eric Johnson (R-Savannah)
informed me that as a rule they are only funny after all the taxes have
been collected.
Less
funny was the reaction to the Michael Vick dogfighting saga. The mail
was overwhelmingly in agreement that what Vick did was reprehensible,
but some folks still don’t get it. One reader opined that if PETA and
the Humane Society hadn’t gotten involved, “It wouldn’t have been as bad
as it is now.” Another wanted to know if “‘your folks’ had killed a
horse,” would I write about it? He also called me a lot of bad names and
let me know his diatribe was being sent via his Blackberry. Yes, I would
write about a dead horse because my daughter, the animal lover, would
beat me about the head and shoulders if I didn’t. I informed him that my
reply was being sent to him via a Smuckers grape jelly jar. Never heard
back from Mr. Blackberry.
Several
readers volunteered to help Sheila the Family Wonderdog “educate” former
Georgia Tech basketball legend and part-time nuclear scientist Stephon
Marbury on the evils of dogfighting. I will let her know of the kind
offers when she awakes from her 22-hour nap. I suspect Sheila now has
Whoopi Goldberg in her sights as well, since Ms. Blabbbermouth opined on
TV recently that dogfighting is a Southern sport. Goldberg should know.
She is an expert on all things Southern, being from New York City, which
is south of Canada. Whoopi needs to understand that Sheila the FWD can
and will bite both males and females where the sun doesn’t shine. She is
an equal-opportunity enforcer.
I was
surprised how many Baptists agreed with me that women are fully
qualified to serve in the pulpit. The few Bible thumpers who think women
ought to remain barefoot and pregnant ranted and raved and told me I
wasn’t going to heaven. I hate to tell them, but that decision is in
the able hands of Dr. Gil Watson, the World’s Greatest Preacher. God has
put him in charge of my sorry soul, thus ensuring him lifetime
employment.
Many of
my liberal weenie friends disagreed with my comments on 9/11. Absolutely
nothing to worry about, one assured me. The overall threat of terrorism
is a right-wing plot that has been “massively exaggerated for political
gain,” including tax cuts for the rich. We can all sleep better now.
Liberal weenies are very smart.
Finally,
a number of readers, including some well-known political types, think
Tommy the Barber is right on in his assessment of the presidential
chances for Georgians Newt Gingrich and Sam Nunn, which he puts at
somewhere around zero. Incidentally, Tommy also thinks that President
Peanut is a zero, even though Tommy cut his hair once. Tommy the Barber
is a Great American.
Now, if
you will excuse me, I really must run if I am to make it to my shrimp
orgy before the little boogers find out I am coming. If you need me,
don’t hesitate to write. I will have my Smuckers jar with me.
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