I am not politically correct.
I also do not purposely invest my time in proving to any person that my point of view or perspective is correct. Here's the beauty of life - the right and real things are not your or my opinion.
Hell. I'm neither political or correct.
Today I was at a store and the man at the counter ( who is used to me visiting the store) said, "Do people give you a hard time about your jeep now that we're all so politically correct?"
Grinning sideways, I responded, "I think some people think about it - then I hop out of the jeep and they don't say one word. Go figure!" I told him I'm considering putting a rebel flag on top of the hardtop once it's installed. (I already have the horn.)
If my jeep insults you - you have so many problems that I can't even solve with discussion. I would actually classify you as silly - and straight-forward say to you, "Bless your heart, darlin'."
My jeep is not my statement to the world. It says nothing about me except I liked the Dukes of Hazzard growing up, I love driving a standard, and I like a vehicle I can tear up on the backroads of Montana. It says I'm slightly impractical - but I've lived a practical life almost all of my life - give a little here. It says that I love the color orange - and that Bo was a secret crush of mine. It says that I don't give a flying flip about comfort or having the newest of new - because in my Simone world - that doesn't matter.
It doesn't tell you that I believe in the right of choice - or that I boldly support my LGBTQ friends and family. It doesn't tell you that I believe that guns are the right of the people and I carry - and I have a right to carry - and I like guns. It doesn't tell you that I care for people to the highest mountain and will step in front of a bus for a stranger - and I'll protect you with my very being if I thought you were in danger. My jeep doesn't tell you that I pay for the coffee of the person behind me or for the groceries of the person not paying attention in the line. It doesn't tell you that I was right and real ticked off that a fountain that was put in place in the early 1900s by the Daughters of the Confederacy was removed from a park near my home because someone was suddenly insulted by it. (Bless your heart.)
Folks, I recommend reading a once well-known writing by George Orwell. The title is Nineteen Eighty-Four.
In my not so politically correct way - I will warn you of erasing parts of history that make you uncomfortable. Do not make the mistake of making your mental/physical/emotional world comfortable as the cost of history or - even - reality. Invest in reasonable and real conversation about progress - but not at the cost of the future... because I promise, if we continue to erase a past that somehow insults those who never experienced it - we will be doomed to repeat it.
Or worse.
Let's not get to the 'or worse' part....
Please.
So if you see my jeep - know I'm bouncing around in it - happy - listening to music - likely some Waylon Jennings. (Press Play Below.)
Be ever so happy. (Just try it.)
§
I also do not purposely invest my time in proving to any person that my point of view or perspective is correct. Here's the beauty of life - the right and real things are not your or my opinion.
Hell. I'm neither political or correct.
Today I was at a store and the man at the counter ( who is used to me visiting the store) said, "Do people give you a hard time about your jeep now that we're all so politically correct?"
Grinning sideways, I responded, "I think some people think about it - then I hop out of the jeep and they don't say one word. Go figure!" I told him I'm considering putting a rebel flag on top of the hardtop once it's installed. (I already have the horn.)
If my jeep insults you - you have so many problems that I can't even solve with discussion. I would actually classify you as silly - and straight-forward say to you, "Bless your heart, darlin'."
My jeep is not my statement to the world. It says nothing about me except I liked the Dukes of Hazzard growing up, I love driving a standard, and I like a vehicle I can tear up on the backroads of Montana. It says I'm slightly impractical - but I've lived a practical life almost all of my life - give a little here. It says that I love the color orange - and that Bo was a secret crush of mine. It says that I don't give a flying flip about comfort or having the newest of new - because in my Simone world - that doesn't matter.
It doesn't tell you that I believe in the right of choice - or that I boldly support my LGBTQ friends and family. It doesn't tell you that I believe that guns are the right of the people and I carry - and I have a right to carry - and I like guns. It doesn't tell you that I care for people to the highest mountain and will step in front of a bus for a stranger - and I'll protect you with my very being if I thought you were in danger. My jeep doesn't tell you that I pay for the coffee of the person behind me or for the groceries of the person not paying attention in the line. It doesn't tell you that I was right and real ticked off that a fountain that was put in place in the early 1900s by the Daughters of the Confederacy was removed from a park near my home because someone was suddenly insulted by it. (Bless your heart.)
Folks, I recommend reading a once well-known writing by George Orwell. The title is Nineteen Eighty-Four.
In my not so politically correct way - I will warn you of erasing parts of history that make you uncomfortable. Do not make the mistake of making your mental/physical/emotional world comfortable as the cost of history or - even - reality. Invest in reasonable and real conversation about progress - but not at the cost of the future... because I promise, if we continue to erase a past that somehow insults those who never experienced it - we will be doomed to repeat it.
Or worse.
Let's not get to the 'or worse' part....
Please.
So if you see my jeep - know I'm bouncing around in it - happy - listening to music - likely some Waylon Jennings. (Press Play Below.)
Be ever so happy. (Just try it.)
§
1 comment:
My Australian father in law (STEP father in law, actually) is a lovely man of few words. IN this instance he'd agree with a nod, and say, "Faaaaark 'em."
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