Column: Alabama guitarist inspires those of us with Parkinson’s

The Grammy Award-winning Southern rock band Alabama has long been a favorite of mine.

Incredibly, the band has sold 75 million albums since the late 1970s. Between 1980 and 1993, 30 of the group’s records reached the top of the Billboard charts.

And, as of two or three weeks ago, my appreciation has soared.

Guitarist Jeff Cook, one of the original members, disclosed earlier this month that he has Parkinson’s disease. Though only recently revealed publicly, he was diagnosed four years ago.

I didn’t tell anyone when I was first diagnosed, either. I don’t know why. I suppose I thought it might be perceived as a sign of weakness.

I’ve had Parkinson’s for 11 years now and know a bit about it. I wouldn’t wish it upon my worst enemy, but, if it’s any consolation, Jeff, it’s not the worst thing that can happen to you.

Worse still would be having a kidney stone every day for the rest of your life. Or no longer being able to recognize family members and friends.

Still, it’s a very bad disease and a royal pain in the caboose.

Cook informed a reporter that Parkinson’s affects the central nervous system and often causes tremors. I can attest to that. My tremors frequently slosh soup from a spoon on its journey to my mouth, or launch lima beans off my fork like Navy jets off the Carl Vinson.

Chopsticks? Fuhgeddaboudit!

“This disease robs you of your coordination, your balance and causes tremors,” Cook said in a statement to the media. “For me, this has made it extremely frustrating to try and play guitar, fiddle or sing.”

Try being a writer! Or a barber. Or Michelangelo.

“Let me say, I’m not calling it quits,” Cook assured, “but sometimes our bodies dictate what we have to do, and mine is telling me it’s time to take a break and heal.”

So far as I know, no one’s ever been healed of this malady. Not my dad. Not my friends. Not me. But its steady advance can be staunched to some degree. I’ve seen that in my life and in the lives of others.

There is hope.

Parkinson’s is a progressive disorder. It causes nerve cells to die or become impaired, and patients exhibit such symptoms as tremors or shaking, slowness of movement, rigidity or stiffness, loss of facial mobility and balance difficulties. Other signs include a shuffling gait, cognitive problems and muffled speech.

When I was first diagnosed I was anticipating maybe two or three years, and then ...? That, thankfully, didn’t materialize.

But the disease has taken its toll.

I once was able to type more than 100 words a minute. Keyboarding skills, in my opinion, are essential to a writer. Sure, Ernest Hemingway wrote longhand, but he probably composed no more than 250 words a day.

Parkinson’s has almost completely incapacitated my hands. I’m forced to hunt and peck at a keyboard, and I now type no more than 10 words a minute. Cursive is out of the question.

Several years ago, I met a gifted musician. He’d been a flutist with several symphony orchestras. Parkinson’s turned his supple fingers into granite. He could no longer finger the notes.

He was devastated. His gift had been wrested from him in a matter of months. How does one cope with that?

When Cook says he plans to take a break and heal his hands, I say, “I’m praying for you, brother.”

It doesn’t necessarily work that way, however.

Band member Randy Owen reports that one of the most painful aspects of the disease is that some fans think Cook is inebriated.

“That’s the part that hurts so bad,” Owen said.

There are times when my balance is painfully unsteady. I wobble like I’ve had a snoot-full. And, I occasionally slur words. I’ve learned that I can’t worry about what others think.

A brave friend of mine says, “I may have Parkinson’s but Parkinson’s doesn’t have me.”

Dominus fortitudo nostra!

Batten down the hatches, Jeff, it could get rough.

But your new Parkinson’s mates will gladly have your back!

JIM CARNETT, who lives in Costa Mesa, worked for Orange Coast College for 37 years.