I grew up learning to be careful what I say to people... lest I hurt feelings or offend sensitivities... or I'd be labeled tactless or insensitive. The term 'politically correct' haven't been contrived at the time and the only term we had for such positive behavior was 'politeness.'

It's good to be polite, but while I took heed what my elders told me, I also remember growing up thinking, albeit in private, what a pain in the ass it is to be polite all the time. Like, how was I supposed to react when my mom tells me to go help my kid sister with her assignment (and she usually means pronto) and I've got a paper to submit the following morning? So I do as told as what big sisters are supposed to and it's the polite thing to do. And while you're at it, the kiddo shifts her attention from the exercise book to the tv and back... and when you ask her if she has understood the concept enough to do the rest of the exercises, she says no. So you explain things one more time, and she does it all over again. In the meantime, the clock is ticking and you still haven't put down the first period on the paper that is due the next day. What, pray thee, is the 'polite thing' to say in such a situation?

Or when you're watching your favorite tv program and your big brother strutts into the room, sweeps off the remote from your grasp and switches channels. How do you 'politely' let him know you're pissed off?

Or when you meet relatives in a reunion and upon seeing you ask nonchalantly, 'Oh dear, you haven't seem to have grown an inch since last Christmas...' Or when you're running late and waiting for your turn in the toilet and your big sister takes her own sweet time. Or you're quietly seated on your chair running through your lectures and when the teacher walks into the room a classmate exclaims, 'Teacher! Teacher! You should see how ----- does an impression of you! It's really quite funny...' Has Judith Martin earmarked these in her civility handbook?

Inspite of all these, I got past childhood quite intact. But the grain has been sown deep and politeness, or the more hip 'political correctness' had me in chains. I still thought it was a pain though, and it was especially limiting when we moved here and I've come to brush elbows with people of different ethnicities, beliefs, orientations and... God help me... eccentrities. This morning, I was sitting on the can with my current book, 'The Joy of Work' by Scott Adams and this is what I read...

"There is only one effective response when accused of insensitivity: Accuse your accuser of a sin called political correctness. Political corretness is a totally meaningless phrase, similar to 'insensitivity.' Neither has any useful meaning because they both describe every person on earth. Realistically, everyone whines when his or her own demographic group is maligned. We're all politically correct. So it's like accusing a dog of having hair on its body. Yet many people are so bothered by the label 'politically correct' that they will withdraw their accusations of insensitivity and apologize for being so testy. This is another case of stupidity triumphing over stupidity. It shouldn't work, but it does. You might as well take advantage of it."

I rest my case.

But... do humor me for just a second.

Tell me, do you think Bush is politically correct?

Political?

Absolutely.

Correct?

Uhmm... excuse me. I gotta go watch my plants grow... *walks away humming Boy George*