I am tired, tired of everyone being offended by everything. We have become so politically correct, so sensitive to each and every comment that we are seriously stunting our own growth. Frankly I’ve given up, If you are offended by something I’ve said, I apologize I don’t mean to be offensive I can’t keep up. Besides I’m beginning to realize if you are offended by something I’ve said, chances are its a ‘you’ problem and not necessarily a ‘me’ problem.
Political correctness is not what this blog is about. So we can all take a collective breath and I’ll keep writing while you keep reading. So what is my point? We should be correcting the things in society that is actually wrong, not perceived to be wrong, not to try to erase or rewrite history. But change the wrongs that we can actually change. Who is with me?
In 1870’s Brewster M. Higley wrote, ‘Home on the Range’ to celebrate the beauty of the Great Plains of Smith County, Kansas. Home on the Range was actually a poem which Daniel Kelly set to music.
I’m sure you can all sing along as I type;
“Oh give me a home where the Buffalo roam Where the deer and the antelope play Where seldom is heard a discouraging word and the skies are not cloudy all day”
These lyrics are simply wrong, and nobody seems to care and frankly that offends me. So lets get the record straight. Buffalo are not found naturally anywhere in the USA. Buffalo’s never, ever roamed the plains in Kansas. If you are seeing Buffalo you are either in South Asia watching water buffalo or Africa watching the Cape buffalo. What one finds in the Western states are Bison! But it doesn’t end there my friends, oh no! Antelope don’t live on the Western plains either. Like the Buffalo, Antelope live in Africa. There are people who call the pronghorn an American Antelope but those people are wrong. Pronghorns are the one and only living member of their family. Their closest relatives are goats and antelope but alas the pronghorns are on their own.
So where does that leave us? In keeping with current trend we must eradicate the old song, burn every copy wipe out any existence of poem or song in all its many renditions and rewrite.
Everybody now!
“Oh give me a home where the bison roam and the deer and the pronghorns play. Where seldom is heard a discouraging word and the skies are not cloudy all day”.
Doesn’t take much does it?
PanningForGold 