Day to remember those that were bigger

A hero is someone who has given his or her life to something bigger than oneself--Joseph Campbell

Starts with a post

Just got this quote from a Facebook post.  Thinking of all the friends and family members that were in the military on this Memorial Day. 2010. All those that serve this country for the protection of our freedom and liberty. For a time, the American People were not so nice to Veterans and this is a tough thing to swallow. Calling Korean and Vietnam veterans baby killers. Spitting on returning troops. Not paying soldiers for risking their lives in previous battles.

Military and Movies

Saw a movie, Stop Loss. It was a tough movie. Basically, the US Government said, "No, you can’t go just yet. Yes, you fulfilled your country’s duty. However, we just need you for a little longer." This last year the Academy Award winner was for movie call the Hurt Locker. It’s about bomb demolition specialist that goes back into the fray. It reminds me of part of the movie Black Hawk Down. At the end of the movie, one of the Rangers grabs a quick bite to eat and heads back into Mogadishu.  

Not Our Best Moment

There is something basic—very basic about the human condition. Here people can be so unkind to others. Regular people--you and me--with very noble intention to serve is rebuked and betrayed. A person consciously decides to withstand all the difficulties and fight for cause that is bigger than selves.  Yet return to with such. . .crap.  Just basic Crap. Fighting for your country, fighting for something bigger. They return--not to a hero’s welcome--but to crap, piss, and spit.It makes one give pause to stepping into the fray.

Scaling Mountains

This was not a country's best moments. Yet, when you see hero types, the unsung heroes that strap on and gets back in the fray. No fanfare. No medals. No rewards. Just the knowledge that they helped another. They climbed mountains and built something wonderful. This is what heroes are. You realize, "Hey, there is something more. I am part of his/her team, I am part of the human race. You realize you, too, can be a rock climber. I am part of that genome. I got hero in me, too." 

Green Angels Among Us

At times, we are faced with ugliness. When desperation and evil stares in the face, I find solace that others had the gravitas to be bigger than stupid individuals, hurt feelings, and displaced rage. They were able to stand up and step up to be bigger. To get higher, we need to remember on Memorial Day, we stand on the shoulders of giants.They are our base, our foundation.

Emissary Goats sent to Azazel

Who's Fault Is It Now? In Leviticus 16:8-10, Emissary goats--Scapegoats--were sent to Azazel.

Stupidity happens. Injustice occurs. Intolerance and Scapegoating is a historical fact. First it was immigrants for the country’s woes. It was the Indians. Then Asians. The Jews. Now it’s the Mexicans. Blaming someone else for the society's problem is not a new tactic. 

If we can remember, these scapegoating tactics were used against Jews, homosexuals, and anyone un-uberman-like. The United States fought World War II to stop concentration camps and the whole extermination of a people.

Before calling the kettle you know, let's not get too big-headed. America is not within its own evils. Slavery of Africans, taking of Native Americans lands and cultures, and internment camps of the Japanese Americans. Lets not forget Fred Korematsu and other Civil Rights leaders. Remember J. Adams? How about B. Franklin? T. Jefferson? G. Washington and the other signatories of the Declaration of Independence. You are right this what American soldiers fought and died for.

One could say it’s the politicians' fault. But that too would be the same scapegoating. French Revolution said that it was the riches fault for everything. Thanks Charles Dickens f Tale of Two Cities.

Before doing this I am reminded of not a well-known Jewish holiday, Erev Yom Kippur. Yom Kippur is a big day to the Hebrews. Yom Kippur is a day for atoning for the sins against God. The day before Yom Kippur is Erev Yom Kippur. On this day people apologize and ask forgiveness from friends, relatives, and acquaintances to heal hurt feelings. In other words, before we ask Forgiveness from God, we ask it from each other. 

So What Do We Do?

Really, I am not sure.Wish I had the answer. I believe in the Sir Galahad theory. Before doing this, perhaps we can remember no one wants to be sent Azazel as emissary goats. Perhaps we can remember Erev Yom Kippur before we battle in the name of God. Perhaps we will not need to remember so many on this hallowed day

Possible Answer: Be an Eternal Flame

Fight for the causes you believe in. Stand up before the fight begins. If one can’t do that, then feel in your heart.  In time, we may learn that we are all connected. In time, we may be friends. Maybe in time we learn to eat, play, and celebrate together.  Dalai Lama said that we need more festivals. Maybe this is true. Eat and celebrate together. We get to see our neighbor in the eye. We need to see that fire for life. We got to be that Eternal Flame.

Sweeping changes may be needed. Flood, plague, and fire have been used for the cleaning of house. Right now our world is bleeding and BP can’t seem to plug up this hole. Spilling of our oceans is killing us and our world. Volcanoes are spewing ash in the sky. Earthquakes are saying that there's a time for change. Don’t want to get Armageddon -ish. It’s not my thing. Death happens to us all. What I am saying is that we should remember--and more importantly--learn from the past. You know the rest of the saying.

Another Possible Solution: Marine Motto Semper Fidelis means Always Faithful. Faith is defined as a fidelity to one's promise. According to Merriman-Webster dictionary Faith does not simply define "belief and trust and loyalty God." It stands as an allegiance to duty and others. It is our duty. Our duty in believing as people--and more importantly--as a person that we (I) can and should do better. On this Memorial Day, the Fallen have given “. . .the last full measure of devotion”—Abraham Lincoln, Gettysburg Address.

We need to remember. It is our duty to remember. It is our duty to respect. To stand up and be bigger than ourselves.  Perhaps with this, this simple belief and acceptance that we are more similar than different, then maybe we can fix these things hurting ourselves and our world.

First it is a feeling.  A recognition of right and wrong. Your soul will tell you what is. Just have to listen. A thought will manifest itself to a belief. Next an action.

Another Solution: Remembering

If we can remember “It is for us the living rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced.” Gettysburg Address, Lincoln again. 

Saw a movie (Yes, another movie) Taking Chance. A simple story about a Marine volunteering to do Escort Duty for a Fallen Soldier. He is met acts of kindness and respect on their journey home. So let me be simple and start. Russell, Mike C., M. Jones, Marvin, Dad, and others in the military--Thank you on this hallowed day, Memorial Day.

Building Bridges Now: Connections from the past to the future

Takes Work. . .

Building takes work. Connections take mortar, clay, steel beams, concrete, planning, mistakes, corrections, and time. The distance between here and there can be treacherous. What once was there may fall into disarray and disrepair. If it is worth the time, then people will make efforts to make that connection. This is much how people are, too. Our relationships with our fellows may need to make that same mortar, clay, steel beams, and time. 

Lesson Learned

Building on what others have done in the past is vital on who we are. We learn the mistakes others have made and try not to make them. We learn that time heals wounds, but forgetting the past also has its problems. We are liable to make the same mistakes.

Building a Legacy

Watched a Iron Man 2 this weekend. Show begins with Robert Downey, Jr. playing the role of Tony Stark, brilliant billionaire business man. He is the maker of Iron Man suit and he holds an expo with the theme of building a legacy. That of his father, his own, the world’s Legacy.

Just Standing Around Looking at the Grass. . .

Before heading to cemetery to see Rochelle and Tatay, I asked one of my nieces (actually according to Family Tree, its my first cousin, once removed) if she wanted to go. Let’s call her 3^rd gen. Anyways, I asked her if she wanted to go and she said, “Why? All you are going to do there is stand around and look at the grass and stone tablet.” Thought this was quite astute for a six year old. Tried saying it was out of respect and that we need to see those that have gone away. She answered, “They are dead. They can’t say anything.” Didn’t want to lecture or discuss metaphysical stuff of life and afterlife.  Got a bit frustrated with myself that I wasn’t able to explain to her in terms that she would understand. This was something to chew on.

Will Not Be Unturned

Well, anyways, we got to the cemetery and it was quite busy. Gardeners were trying to close the early, but Uncle John wasn’t having it. He waited patiently for them to open the gates. We still had a half hour before closing.

Drove inside. It was packed. Cars were lined up and down the roadway. I could see why they gardeners were anxious to leave.  It was Mother’s Day. Uncle John and Mom put the fresh roses and carnations in the flower holder. Dropped off the necklace, Kaprece, Kaelynn, and I made at the Relay for Life Cancer Walk.

Family Stories Being Told

There we stood around and looked around on the grass and stone tablet as my niece predicted. We talked about the upcoming family events, Chris’s wedding in three days, Uncle John’s venture to the PI for HS reunion, and Aunty Flor’s return trip back home.

Star of David

Couldn’t help think of the conversation with first cousin once removed earlier in the day, Also had a talk with Lynn, my niece. Lynn’s ten now. We were brunching with the Palmdale Fam’s at El Torito. For some reason, the conversation lead to talk about history. The conversation starter was the Star of David on my niece’s thumbnail. I talked about the mont blanc pens and the star of David on top of the pen cover. Talked about Hitler commissioned to have the best pen of the world made. (Mont Blancs run from $100 to $1000s of dollars per pen). Unbeknownst to the Nazi leader, the pen makers were of Jewish descent. They placed the Star of David on top of the cap cover and there it remains. I asked her, if she knew who Hitler was? She said, “No.”

History Is More Than Class In School

This scared me a bit. How can she not know? Maybe it’s good that she didn’t know about the Holocaust at this time. It reminded me when I asked if she knew Muhammad Ali was. She said, “No” then too. Realizing people not knowing about the past scared me a bit. Historical figures that were prominent in my growing up reminded me that we need to take to share the oral history of our past. It may be time to bring children to cemeteries to show them that the past is important.  To remind children, History is important. To remind them people before are important. To remind them to respect and understand the past. It is time to learn History is more than a class in school.

This is daunting task, but one well worth the effort. With the advent of technology, we should be able to bridge the past and the future much easier. I hope in time the children remember to be more this lesson I hope in time we are the legacy and foundation of the future. I hope that we can teach the children that cemeteries are more than grass and stone tablets. I hope that even though people shed their mortal coils, the children learn that our loved ones are still alive in our hearts.

Avenue N and Sierra Highway

You Remind Me of A Girl I Once Knew. . .
First time was with Chelle. It was a place where we parked. Sunroof open, heater on. Desert Sky. We sat in the dark, listened to the music and enjoyed the night.

We would sit and watch stars. Planes would take off and land. Started going all the time. Middle of the day. Late at night. Early morning. Cars would just park. Then by I'd go myself. (Its better with company) Don’t know why others would go. The reason I went, besides parking with Chelle, was because it had good energy here.

Smoke Rising. . .
This place was uplifting. People coming home. People taking off. Reminded me of landing at LAX from Boston, to see Mom and Dad. It was where journey began. It was where the journey ended. It was a place where dreams would sail to the sky.

It is said when one lights an incense candle, one should put their hopes and dreams on the rising smoke. One does this so that your dreams and wishes can be sent to heaven to be answered. Maybe that is why I sit there? To be inspired. Its a place where I can see dreams take off. Its my place to watch the sunrise. A place for having my G-time. A place to watch the planes touch down and take off. A place to watch the trains go by. Its a place of  change. A place where the journey begins.

Palmdale's Ark
Always felt comfortable in this place of change. It’s the place of excitement. It was the place of blending. It was place of discovery, a place where dreams can take off and become true. After sitting there a few times, started noticing the surroundings. One thing is the boat. One thing is the flag. One things is the plaque. All these things are just something one would not expect in the middle of the desert, but there they are.

Mojave Cross, A Place to Be Honored
Recently, the Supreme Court ruled that it was okay for the Mojave Cross be left alone. Mojave Cross--CSM article There was some court rulings that wanted the removal of the Mojave Cross. It was  placed on Federal grounds,some seventy years ago and due to the separation of church and state belief, people were fighting to have it removed. I understand reasoning why people want it removed. I understand reasoning why people don’t want it removed. Some people just don’t want such religious beliefs to be broadcasted out the universe. Some do.

Graffiti, A Cry To Be Remembered
Not comparing the Mojave Cross, with graffiti. Well, maybe, I am. It is symbolism. It is an act of recognition. It is an act to be remembered. Sometimes the means and methods can misguided.

At times, graffiti  is ugly and does not belong. Don’t necessarily think all graffiti is bad. Grafitti thoughts Call me strange. Some works are just plain beautiful. They say that art is a reflection of a society. Sometimes society is ugly.

When I see graffiti, I try to see the meaning behind it. When I see graffiti on walls, train sections, bridges, signs, I feel somewhat sad. Some say it's a mark of territory. To me, it is just a person wish to remembered. Their best option was a late night, adrenalin filled moment of temporary immortality. Instead of bringing fame, it brings infamy. They don’t care that generally society sees this as ugly. Perhaps it is a defiant call, saying "I am me and I cry out my existence."This I admire, but there other avenues.

Their Goodness Does Not Perish. . .
These undirected cries of individuality is understandable. I believe most of us don’t want to be forgotten.

I don’t know who this BJ person is, but I read an article sometime back in the Valley Press. Pretty lengthy article of this devoted person that would be at the spot, my spot, our spot doing the same thing I was doing. Just watching, parking, be inspired, I don't know. He loved this place so. He loved this place so much that some friends and family made a plaque for this him.

When visiting the cemetery to see Rochelle, Marvin, Tatay, and Mary.  I remember good moments. I remember the love. . .The Love. Their lives are a remembrance of a life lived. A moment where we shared something beautiful. Something meaningful. Something . . .It’s just love.

So when I think of the Mojave Cross, when I think of the plaque, when I write a blog post, I think that I, too, want to be remembered (Hopefully fondly). Maybe its my cry for temporary immortality.When I look at these everything I see the importance of how everything counts. Perhaps instinctively, we know there shall be an end. In time. In history, we would liked to be remembered.  Perhaps, we know, things get erased. Things return to the stardust from which we all came from. 

Let Go, Let God
So enjoy your journey. Create the pleasant memories. Some may try paint mental and emotional graffiti on your art. It happens. So to those that matter--that truly matter-- they will remember the good that you brought in the world. For those that write ugly words, just paint over it. Their view of Love and Life are already warped. They hurt. That is all that they can share with the Universe. In time, they will grow out of childish things. So leave them to find their way. When they grow up, keep your arms and hearts open. In the meantime, Move on. Your ship is sailing and you don't know where it will land. It may be on Sierra Highway and Avenue N.

Life happens so make Life Happen.

Sunday Afternoon

"Son of A King"--He Would Say
Sunday still. I’m shooting to catch up on some blogging. I’m waiting for my wi-fi to connect with the Pepperdine business school’s network. It’s across the street from Howard Hughes Promenade. Whenever, I come by here I think of Prince. He was my VP. Good man. He promoted me to Sales Manager at Garden Grove. He also sold me his Honda Passport when my Integra was stolen. I believe he lives down the street. I should look him some time. Today is not that time.

If things go well, it should be Ostrich, Oceans, and Oscars. We’ll see. It’s 2 pm now. Jason got me a Starbucks chocolate something. I was expecting Hot Chocolate but Chocolate Shake something.  Yummy. It’s been like that a lot lately. Events have been turning out better than expected. I was supposed to meet Jason at the parking lot across the street at the Spectrum, but I wasn’t really listening and ended up paying for parking. I got a great pic over the freeway. Lucky I had my money in the backseat versus the trunk where I usually keep my stuff. Lucky for me my car loss its juice and I got a jump from this guy pulling in. Lucky I put my backpack in the backseat.

Lucky I waited to eat at Mickey Dees versus stopping by Charlie Brown’s and getting my first Ostrich burger. Stopped by got some picks of velociraptors and brachiosaurus. I wasn’t going to drive down to LA because of whatever reason. Decided to get up and go. It was and still is a beautiful day. Called Jason from the intersection of Sepulveda and Jefferson. He was the same intersection across the street at the same time. Went to go see Tatay and Rochelle, it’s been too long. 

Speaking To The Dead
Never spoke out loud talking at cemetery. Today, I did. In a generation, no one may be visiting them. To the nephews and nieces that will follow, they will just be plaques in the ground. They will never know how much any of them have meant to me. No one will never know the importance these people had on the people to come. 

Their lessons, their stories are not their own. They are mine. True, they may never have to chance to learn from the originator. Guess, we are carbon copies of the one’s before us. How many know our great, grand parents? How many know our grandparents? How many know our family's children? How many know your own children? Well, unlike many in the future, the virtual reality we live in just virtual. A dream.

Grafitti, High Scores, and Blogging
Beginning to understand the people who wanted to have their high scores on the video arcade games. I understand why taggers leave their markings on the overhead pass, on the walls of the freeway, on the sides of the road. They simply wanted to be remembered. If they are lucky, their tag will not be removed for awhile. Too bad, their tags are just lines on the road equated of with a troubled youth. Not growing up in the “Boys In the Hood” areas, I don’t understand the language. These messages are sending are gibberish. To me, its just a sadness. The best they got is spray paint on the road.

So much beauty out here and all they could do is inject into our memory a $1000 fine their parents have to pay because the best they can do is leave spray paint on the wall. Their best has created a government program unit to wipe any memory of their existence. That’s all they got. Sure. Some graffiti is beautiful, artistic; However, when they tag over others painting, it only illicits sorrow. Guess, their souls hurt deeply. Its true: Misery likes company. I hope these taggers find hope in their heart and better things to come. Maybe, they can find beauty before too long?

Artists All
I’ll admit my tastes are different than most. I like comics. I like unusualness. I like works that illicit intellectual gravitas. Give me John Byrne. Give me Frank Miller. Give me Piers Anthony, John Clancy, and Anne Rice. Give me Leonardo da Vinci. Give me Sting. Sarah McLachlan. Matisyahu. Nina Simone. Muhammad Ali. Bruce Lee. Whoever are your muses, look with softer eyes in people. Look at their aura. There’s pain there. There is anger there. Some are that are lost and unaware there’s something better—and they deserve that Goodness. People have goodness. It’s there. Don’t sympathize, empathize. Their actions are theirs to own.

“Mistakes are always forgivable, if one has the courage to admit them”--Bruce Lee 

As my cousin Vince posted on his Facebook page, “All of us have Love in us. It’s just are harder to find in some.”

Here I Am. . .

You spend time on what’s important. If you’re not, then you may want to ask yourself why?

Took a photo Sunday. It’s a pretty remarkable one. I am not going to say what it is. You are just going to have to decide for yourself. Made a decision after wards, no, it’s more of a flash. I have those at times. I am just listening to them more often. Had a friend give me an honest opinion on something I have had some reservation on something I am doing. I still have reservations. It was honest and has a great deal of merit. This person I trust and have known for years. I hold her opinion in great confidence. Yet, I think I will go on. 

 As for one of decisions, I made. Decided I will not post sunrises and sunsets on Facebook anymore. I will still wake up every morning and take time out of my day to view the sunrise and sunset. Its not that I won’t do it again. Its just that I will take a sabbatical. Decided not to post sunrise/ sunset pictures for a few weeks. I have a date in mind, but you will have to keep posted I guess. (April sometime) Also, decided to stop eating beef and pork. Dalai Lama/ Glitter thing. Plus, I need to get back on track. Been off for couple of weeks. Getting off the track for a little while. Nothing purposeful, nothing disturbing. Its just I need a bit of a course correction. Need some cocooning before I spread my wings in the future.

Been taking more time on everything. Not that I have more time. I am just taking more time in the moment. This morning decided to enjoy every bite of breakfast. Scrambled eggs. Tater tots. Bagel with butter and strawberry preserves. It feels a bit awkward with no meat. I like beacon. I like Korean BBQ. I like Tacos. Before I knew it I realized some people-without savor every bite because they do not know when that next  bite will be.

Sunday Drove to Downtown LA from Riverside National Cemetery to have breakfast at Catch-21 in downtown. Area is a few blocks outside some troubled areas. Just wanted some Fish and rice for breakfast.  New England Clam chowder, too. Love shrimp, too. Reminds me a bit of Faneuil Hall in Boston

Wasn’t able to fit some things this weekend, but still it was a memorable weekend. Thankfully, it has been many memorable weekends lately. Everyday has been more memorable. What troubles me when ever I hear this is, Ugly Mondays. Thanks Big Smile for the weekend. Its Hump Day.  I mean why is there so much enjoyment placed on the weekend. It’s just if one focuses on three days of the week, what about the other four days. If you need to take a break, take a break. If you are not happy in the job you’re in, quit. Do something else. If it no longer feels right, and you don’t foresee something better. If the reward, does not justify the expenditure, then this does not seem, well, smart. 

Everyday can be a celebration. Instead of dreading heading to work. Dread not working. Dreading a commute. Dread missing the opportunity to change the radio station or change the route. Some people have only one way. Some still have cassettes radios. In Downtown, I have seen the downtrodden. I remember driving past Skid Row picking a son's friend at the bus station. I thank every moment that  could be worse than I am.

I still take my G-Time. I take my moment with the sunsets and sunrises. I still take pictures. We all have a sunset. We will all meet our sunsets. Take that weekend away. When you do that, everyday will be a weekend day. Then everyday will be a Day. Every will be a moment. Every moment will be a lifetime. Start small. You'll notice how big things are. Like you. You'll notice you are a Giant. Your gaze will be far when you start looking near.

At any rate, there are signs for all of us to do something. It’s just are you ready? Things are not always how they seem; things do no turn always turn how we hope. Sometimes, they are better. 

Marvin, My Dad's Friend

Going to visit an old family friend. Marvin. He was my dad's good friend. Best friend, I think. We are going to the Riverside National Cemetery. Good three hour drive. It's been too long since we were at Marvin's burial. Fate would have it. His daughter Tracy put a post on Facebook about her mother being in the hospital. Long story short. I said I would like to go see Marvin, but don't know where he is. Got the info and now I am going to drop off some flower. The day I wrote Tracy was the day he died. His death anniversary. Tracy wrote that her mother, Mary, would like that dearly since she is half a country away. Don't know why there has been so much death in my posts. Rochelle. Andres. Dad.

Guess, it has to deal with my own mortality. Yesterday why exercising I felt a a plopping feeling. Thought it was my belly moving up and down from the exercising. Didn't think it was my heart because my heart rate was normal. Put my hand on chest anyways, just in case. Normal, I guess. How normal can it be with congestive heart failure. Anyways.

I miss him. I miss Marv. He was the last living connection to my Dad before he went to the Philippines. I miss Dad.

I'll write about my journey when I get back.