POLITICALLY CORRECT

Are we working so hard to be politically correct that we are overlooking the very foundation of our country and our core beliefs? The political process is staffed with special interest groups, not only for every part of our society; but, for the environment, with a list that would take up all the room on this blog.

Starting back in the 60’s we started seeing the “me” generation; what’s in it for me, if it feels good do it, I have my rights and we have to protect our children from failure because it might hurt their development and self esteem. I’ve heard them all and disagree with most. This attitude of what is good for me and the hell with you was never taught me growing up. I wasn't even taught it in school.

I have heard complaints that there are teachers with an ultra left social philosophy and agenda that is being imparted to our children (their students). Unfortunately we do not have liberal, socialist charter schools in the area so we have to use public schools. Parents who do not believe in this type of programming have to use charter schools, private schools or home schooling. Could this be the reason we have so many students being home schooled or Charter schools being formed? Many parents that I have talked to in the Exeter Area or in Concord expressed these sentiments; they feel that public education is a failure, financially, educationally and morally.

New Hampshire is an interesting state with tolerance for minorities, whether it is racial or gender; but, what many old time residents do not like is activists that always seem to be the wackiest element of any movement.

The socialists are so hell bent on destroying anyone who disagrees with their twisted point of view they always resort to name calling and personal attacks to win the argument usually by spending most of their energy trying to destroy the opposition’s credibility. We have seen this on a national, state and local level and it will get worse before it gets better.

In my younger days I was in the army and had several specialized jobs which were very demanding. After my group had a very nasty encounter with a regiment of NVA (on the Cambodian border) I had a sore fester to about the size of a softball with a crater the size of my little finger nail oozing puss, I was running a fever and not feeling good. I found a black medic Specialist 5th class with glasses so thick I thought he was looking through an aquarium. We went back to where the medical platoon was, now bodies and debris, while the medic got some basic equipment and anti-biotic. While he was working on me he was telling me how he was discharging from the Army because of glaucoma and could not see things unless they were straight in front of him (I never knew what glaucoma was until that day). He took a big syringe, filled it with peroxide, stuck it in the crater and squeezed. Everything bubbled out, puss blood, infected tissue and a sliver of shrapnel. He bandaged me up, gave me some pills and I was good to go. The sliver went between the side panels of my flak jacket.

I didn’t care if he was black, or a democrat (totaly forgot to ask), most of the socialists I ran into that night were still lying in the wire or inside the firebase where they fell; I took him for what he was a gentle person who was helping someone else, race nor politics came into play.

I try to stay away from activists, whether socialists, religious, gay rights or political and hypocritical phonies. Just be a good person and I’ll respect you as that.

Lee