OK, let me get this straight. We’ve all survived and I hope enjoyed Thanksgiving. And now we’re heading to … what?

Well, thanks to the Politically Correct Police, we can’t call it Christmas anymore, but repercussions be damned, that’s what I’m calling it. It’s like saying you can’t call the Foirth of July “July 4th” anymore. December 25 is, indeed, Christmas Day. Doesn’t matter if you’re of the faith at all. After all, who would we be to say you can’t call the week of December 22 to 30 Hanukah. Of course, it’s Hanukah, just as Ramadan will be April 23 to May 23 next year and Kwanzaa runs December 26 through January 1. It just is. They just are. One does not reign supreme – it’s just for the mainstream America, Christmas has traditionally been celebrated for several hundred years.

And just as we cannot say “the word” anymore, we now, according to the PCP, we can’t wear green and red; we can’t have “the word”-themed parties in schools; we can’t deal in candy canes and all the rest of the ridiculous bah humbugness that is trying to engulf we normal, tolerant, loving, all-encompassing masses.

Now I know there are those who will say that America was not founded as a Christian nation – and I have no argument with that. But do the PCP have to vilify the celebrations thereof? No, I think not. We don’t vilify any religion’s celebrations – except for Christianity, and that to me is hypocrisy at its very worst.

However, I’ve lurched into a political argument, when really my argument is with these flaming fun-killers who seem to have nothing better to do but to try to squash any joy anyone might have.

No more sexy Eartha Kitt purring “Santa Baby,” no more “Baby, It’s Cold Outside,” and “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” is apparently off the Christmas card list. Let’s expunge any history we’ve ever had and pretend it just wasn’t there.

Now we have the Girl Scouts of America leaping on the Scrooge Me Too bandwagon, and have issued the edict that girls must not be coaxed into kissing Uncle Bertie in thanks for his Christmas gift, as this, evidently to the extremely sick and twisted, is giving a message to the young ladies (oh, can I even say that?), that if a man gives them something, a kiss is tantamount to “putting out,” and all sorts of sexual mayhem will ensue.

Well why stop there? Is giving Auntie Mabel a hug encouraging lesbian tendencies? Is giving your Dad a cuddle a precursor to incest?

God save the King, for crying down the sink. Lighten up, people, before you disappear up your own fundamental orifices and ruin the pursuit of life, liberty and happiness for everyone.

So, in the run-up to Christmas, I encourage “peace, love and beads” as goes that lovely hippie saying, to everyone. Enjoy your traditions, and if the school forbids the joys of the season, bugger it I say. Have your own street party and let the kids and adults enjoy the season.

The PCP may now come and arrest me if they must, but, gee, freedom of speech, and all that, kids.

Annie Dear lives in Lee’s Summit. Email her at anniedearkc@hotmail.com.