I confess. I'm not politically correct.
Like when a store clerk wishes me "happy holiday." I always respond with "Merry Christmas." And I say it loud enough so others can hear. And when I do this a few people nod their heads and smile - like maybe we're in the same club.
And so far the Bureau of Political Correctness hasn't given me a citation for this lapse. In fact, I'm not sure if that agency's in existence yet. But if trends continue it might be coming.
But at this point I don't let many things grate on me. I'm one who's in acceptance about most everything. Whether I agree or not. Political correctness, though, is an exception. Not enough to relapse over, but enough to cause mini-ripples in my serenity.
Sometimes I wonder why this irritates me. And I guess it's the idea that others try to impose their beliefs on me. I think everyone has a right to think or do whatever they want. As long as it doesn't harm others.
Kind of like the sign on the wall of our meeting room: Live and Let Live.
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