It's called Christmas, people

Here we are again, y'all. 'Tis the season for the political correctness police to begin their constant clamoring over what name will be given to the monthlong orgy of overindulgence upon which most of us are about to embark, in honor of the birth of Jesus Christ.

See. I already offended several thousand people without even trying.

But it's the same thing year after year. I could write one story on the subject and file it over and over and over - simply changing a name here or a city there or inserting the name of one corporate giant now and another later.

You all know the drill. Company X makes a gazillion dollars a year because people are celebrating Christmas, but they inform their employees that under no uncertain terms are they supposed to wish anyone a merry Christmas or a joyous Noel. Heaven forbid some over-sensitive creature be offended by the phrase.

And then other people will organize boycotts against that company and start those maddening e-mail chains and start vicious urban legends about this company not supporting the troops and that company dissing the Salvation Army Santas and some community somewhere taking the Nativity scene out of the town Christmas festival and so on and so on and so on.

Now don't get me wrong, y'all, and don't hear something I am not saying - or read something I am not writing. All of those things happen. I know they do.

I have walked away from many a mall clerk, completely miffed because she didn't return my very heartfelt "Merry Christmas." And don't bother e-mailing me that she was only carrying out company policy. I know that! I still get miffed.

And I have refused to buy "holiday"cards and trees as recently as this week because we send "Christmas" cards at our house and put up a "Christmas" tree. And I have boycotted with the best of them and shaken my head in moral indignation over the absence of Christ in Christmas.

It's crazy. I know it is. But my point is, it's the same thing year after year after year and the "political-correcting" of the Christmas season is just like the weather. Everybody talks about it but, really, who does anything about it?

We fume and fuss and blow off steam, but when you consider our actions, it's pretty much business as usual.

Well, leave it to a couple of good old boys - translation country music singers - to point out the ridiculousness of the political correctness police, particularly as it pertains to policing the most wonderful time of the year - with the timely release of a hilarious new Christmas song, although I use the term loosely.

I am speaking now of the final track on Brad Paisley's new Christmas album - OK, Brad Paisley's new Christmas CD - we don't do albums anymore, do we? On that particular cut, Brad is joined by country legends Little Jimmy Dickens, George Jones, and Avondale's own Bill Anderson in a little ditty called Kung Pao Buckaroo Holiday.

Yeah. I know. Catchy title, huh?

Well, the song is about some cowboys who try to sing a Christmas song without offending anybody. This turns out to be an impossible task because the very mention of Christ seems to offend people these days.

I mean, we have a whole nation throwing a birthday party and we don't even invite the guest of honor. In the Paisley song, the cowboys get "blipped" every time they use the word Christmas - just like we do in the real world.

So they try to use the word holiday instead of Christmas - again, just like in real life. But hearing the songs makes you realize how absurd it all is.

But they don't stop with Christmas because, well, shoot, y'all - it's George Jones and Little Jimmy Dickens. They are old. They deserve to have a little fun. For instance - not only do they have to substitute holiday for Christmas in the Bing Crosby classic - they have to substitute Caucasian for white, so as not to offend anyone's sensibilities. You get the picture.

"I'm dreaming of a Caucasian holiday" - but of course that won't fly either because now you are leaving out everyone who is not white.

And they can't sing about the three kings of the Orient - it has to be Asia - and they can't sing about the little drummer boy because y'all know how short people get, and so on and so forth.

I guess maybe you have to hear the song to really understand, but trust me - it's funny and is an excellent social commentary, even if Bill Anderson is involved.

Every time I hear it, I am reminded of how stupid all this political correctness is, and I become more determined than ever to continue to ignore it. After all, I've done exactly that for the first 54 years of my life. I may as well continue.

And if I haven't offended you yet, I'm sure your time will come.

Merry Christmas, y'all.

Darrell Huckaby is an author and teacher in Rockdale County. E-mail him at dhuck08@bellsouth.net.

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