I don't know about you folks, but senor has always had a real problem with this so-called holiday.... I mean, sure, I can sort of conjour up a bit of empathy for the faceless and nameless 18 yr old that is so brainwashed that he finds himself believing in the AmeriKKKan Fable.. The poor kid from Anytown US of A leaves his lil burg and enlists.. His buddies are now enjoying his gals affections and the kid is laying in the sand pouring blood and wondering where his legs are... He comes home to find his VA hospital is in shambles, his gal is a single crack-ho mom of 2 mixed race kids, and the folks at the local bar asked him if he'd drink somewhere else. They said his colostomy bag gave off a funny odor that really bummed out the crowd... Senor will put on a black arm band for the day...--------------.... As the song says.... When will they ever learn :cry: -------------sal
I don't know what Memorial Day means for most people, but for me, it's simply a day to take time to honor the dead. Last year, we went to an older cemetary and trimmed weeds around gravestones of the indegent. We set some aright, straightened others, and in general, tidied up around those too poor back in the 1800s and early 1900s to afford the grander stones and locations in the rest of the cemetary. If ancestors of mine were buried close, I'd go to see them and meditate a bit.
If nothing else, take time Monday (as if you need an excuse--you and I could just as easily do it every or any day) to thank your ancestors for where you're at now... good or bad.