Today is Veteran's Day and I wish we weren't celebrating it. We humans are still so barbaric, because we still haven't figured out how not to end our conflicts in war. Nor have we learned the lesson that violence creates more violence. I wish we didn't have to celebrate this day because we no longer had wars. That it was a faint memory of history, like we remember the Trojan War or the Peloppenesian Greek civil war. I only see that every war we are in only causes another war. That the lives of young men and women are not protecting this country, which is the myth, but uses as the foundations for another war. It is so frustrating to hear people use their deaths as an excuse to justify wars. I don't believe they are dying for me, I see it as propaganda to justify an unjustifiable war. But many people in this country don't see it this way. It so sad. I fee that these deaths are in vain, because their violent deaths will not solve the problem of my security. The money we are spending this war could have been used to feed, cloth, and cure the sick of the people of Iraq and Afghanistan. If we did that we could counter the AlQueda and the Taliban's lies. Killing the people in these countries is only alienating people and creating more terrorist.

I am listening to a book on tape "A Long Way Gone Memoirs of a Boy Soldier" by Ishmail Beah. It only reaffirms my educated view that war creates only killing machines and more violence. Ishmail was recruited into the Sierra Leona army at 13 years old after his entire family is killed and his village burned and pillaged by rebels. He becomes like those who killed his family a cold, heartless murder. He is one of the lucky ones who is rehabilitate, but it takes a long time to do this. It is difficult for him to be anything other than a killer. His armor of hate and anger are eventually penetrated, and he is rehabilitate. However a lot of soldiers in every war are not and we create tormented souls. No I don't like Veterans Day, Memorial Day, and all those other days we remember wars, because we haven't learned anything by remembering them.

This past Saturday Barry and I took a couple of friends, Dick Speciese and Lynn to dinner at La Traviata Resturant. It is down the street and around the corner from my our house. They feature an opera singer. We went there because we wanted to celebrate Dick's birthday and he likes opera. The opera singer was good and he enjoyed himself. The dinner, music and conversation was lovely. After dinner we went to a Day of the Dead art exhibit at Long Beach's Second District Art Gallery. I have encluded photos of both.

I love Day of the Dead more than Halloween. It is a time in Mexican culture that we commemorate those in our family who have died. We place photos of our deceased with the things they liked most in life from food to objects on alters. These alters are covered with bright Marigold flowers and candles. Incense is burned in front of them.
The tradition comes from Potzcuarro, Michoacán Mexico. In Potzcuarro there is a small island where the people bring food, drink, and music to the graves of their loved ones. They pray for their dead and hold a vigil where they eat, drink and play music at their deceased grave sites. Day of the Dead is as much as for the living as it is to remember the deceased love ones. I visited Potzcuarro at New Years in 2006. I couldn't get to visit on November 1 or 2, which is the Catholic All Saints Day and when the people of Potzcuarro go and pray for their deceased. Part of the tradition is the making of brilliantly colored sugar skulls and special sweet bread. Brightly colored paper mache skeletons participating in daily activities also decorated these alter. To remind the living that, “life is a walking shadow, a poor player who struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more.” (To poorly quote from Shakespeare’s Macbeth) or as we are reminded on Ash Wednesday, “Remember man that thou art dust and unto dust thou shall return” The Calaveras also make fun of death, with a hangman’s humor. Most people don’t understand this and consider it macabre. It is a way of relieving the terror of our own demise, and makes us remember that we should live this life to its fullest.


I am an atheist and don’t believe in an afterlife, but have come to the existential realization, that we need to make sure that when we leave this life we did more good than harm. I owe it to the next generation that I lived an unselfish life and tried what I could to stop war, poverty, and hunger. As a teacher I was compassionate, understanding and helped my students. As a wife I made my husband happy. That I loved the stranger and realized she/he was like me, humans with the same wants, needs and loves.

I learned of the Day of the Dead here in Los Angeles and have been going to Day of the Dead celebrations for years. We have made alters at school and last week I went with some friends to the Hollywood Cemetery Annual Day of the Dead art exhibit. Not only did families setup alters but also artist that made political statements. These included alters that mourned the deaths of hundreds of women in Juarez Mexico, the hundreds of undocumented workers who died of thirst as they now cross the boarder in an unforgiving desert, and of those who have died in Iraq and Afghanistan from soldiers to civilians. It was a sobering experience, but also as in Mexico filled with lots of color, music and food. Some of the face paintings were works of art, and I have attempted to photograph some of them. It was dark when I arrived and was unable to get good shots of the alters, because I forgot to take a tripod.

Attached are photos of the Island in Potzcuarro Lake where the tradition started, an alter at school and photos of people dressed in Calaveras costume at the recent Hollywood cemetery. I have decided to share these photos through and email since I can not do it on Facebook so I decide to send them in an email. I hope you enjoy them.

This is Ilorona. She needs a good home. The photo was take many years ago in my condo. She would periodically run away because she was being hurrassed by my other cat Oreol. When I moved in to my husband's house about 4 years ago, I couldn't find her to bring her. Every time I went back to see my tenants, I would call for her, but she never answered. Then this week I went back to get the rent and as I was driving out of the underground parking I saw her walking in the garage. I jumped out of the car and called her. She stopped in her tracks and started to cry, that's why I call her Llorana. It means Cryer or one who cries in the femine. I brought her home and she is now living in my computer room. She needs a better home, becuase her tormentor still live with me and I am afraid he will attack her when I leave her out of the room. So I am looking for a good loving home for her. Any takers?