Number of cars were outside the house last night. Reminded
me of my first post. Did not think it was the same situations as before. It
was something. Party guests got loud. Heard something heavy was thrown to the
ground. Heard some shouting, too. One person screamed, “Don’t care who the
Hell you are?” Another voice heard was a lady screaming, “Let’s go. Let’s go.
Let’s go.” This prompted me to get something to eat. If stuff was going down, I
need to get my grub on.
Yesterday, in the afternoon, I attended a baby shower
to a distant relative I did not know. Apparently, guests of the party parked in a
neighbor’s driveway which blocked the home owners’ car. Guy was righteously
pissed. I would be if some asshole parked their car in my driveway. It did not
look like a healthy situation. Cousin Jason and I were rolling up and the neighbor,
looking to vent at someone, headed to Jason’s car. His stance was one looking
for fight. Looked liked it was time to Ready to Rumble.
It did not come to that. Situation was diffused.
It was Diaz de Los Muertes at the Hollywood Cemetery. Jason and I went for some picture taking. He
shot around 500. I was in the mid 400’s. Watching all these altars made me
wonder why would someone choose these giant, elaborate settings. Who are these
people trying to impress? In a couple of generations, these tombstones and
mausoleums will be forgotten and unvisited.
The more distant in time, the harder the bonds to maintain.
I asked my cousin if he knew Rudolph Valentino? He just read
what it said on the flag. There was pictures of zombified Marilyn Monroe and I
think Betty Page around the festival. I wondered if any the grade schoolers and
teenagers knew the cultural significance of the Hollywood icons. One altar
display had giant skull and hands with various luminaries. I am sure many
people would not know half of those displayed.
There are various reasons why people get angry at parties.
There are various why people pass. Some because of accidents. Some pass for a
cause. Others just pass. It concerns me why people hold on to such anger.
Yesterday,
the altars people displayed said much. It said much about how the person lived.
It said much about the people displaying such displaying these altars. Some were simple and unimaginative. Others were magnificent creations. All were honoring the dead. There
are themes in our lives that play out. We are born, we live, then we die. The
stories we create have heroes and antagonists. How we face these challenges
tell others how you overcome these events. If they did, at all.
If no one remembers, does that mean the story of your life
is not worth telling? Does it mean it is not worth sharing? Does it mean that
you were alone and no one to share your story with? Was it because you hurt
those and do not want you to be remembered?
The Day of the Dead is a time to remember those spirits in
our lives. Close and far. It is time to celebrate and rejoice in their memory.
It is a time to forgive and remember. It is time to say peace and reflect on
one’s own story. Much may have transpired in the one’s life. I am sure many good things may have happened. Certainly there has been some bad. Still, it is time is to forget to
those times at party worrying about a parking space and/ or drunken episode.
I believe it is time to decide if it is time to write a new
chapter in your life. Stay the course or alter directions. If you are reading
this, then there is still time. 
But hurry.
