Happy Day of the Dead!

Happy Day of the Dead!

I'm not really certain if that's the appropriate greeting but I like the Day of the Dead.

Originating with the Aztec Indians in Mexico, it's a day for family and friends to gather and remember friends and family members who have died.

In Christianity, it's called All Saint's Day to remember and celebrate all of those who are in Heaven, which is a better way of saying, "They're not dead, they're in Heaven!"

* There is no mention of remembering anybody who went to Hell instead of Heaven on All Saints Day who are also dead which is merely the Christian way of saying "Aw, to hell with them!"

I like the "Day of the Dead" better.

It says it like it is.

People I love died.

I'm not big fan of death but I understand and accept the fact that it happens.

Given my druthers, I like to have all friends and family back but that's simply not the way life works.

The Day of the Dead makes time to remember them and to celebrate the fact they lived. This is done by cooking the person's favorite food, having a picnic at the grave and celebrating their lives.

I think that's a good way to do it.

It would take me a month or so to get the celebrations done. Granddad and Grandma Carver, Dad, Uncle Fred, Ricky, Rick, Sheri, Uncle Bud, Granddad and Grandma Elliott, Aunt Regis, Uncle Ruben ... Hell that's two weeks worth of celebrating right there!

And that's just my family!

Bubba, Fran, Chicago Bob, Trolley Joe, Georgia, Bruce Barns, Chester Fawbush, Joe Bridges, Rodger Pack, Sidney Daniels, Dan Sheehan ... SHIT! Naming all of my friends who have died is going to take a long time so that's just going to make the celebration last longer.

Like I said, the Day of the Dead celebration is going to take a month or so in my case!

Though, the truth is hardly a day goes by that I don't think about them.

They're still alive in my heart where I keep them safe and hold them dear. My Dad and I still have beers together, Bubba still makes me laugh, Fran's still teaching me green, Chicago Bob feeds me his great lines when I need them, and Grandma Carver says prayers with me in the middle of the night.

I don't know how I would get through a day without them.

I celebrate them every day so I suppose, for me at least, every day is the Day of the Dead.

It's not morose, macabre or weird that I can still feel Trolley Joe's arm around my shoulders when I'm having a shitty day or Dan Sheehan's always there when I'm having to do something I really don't want or Uncle Fred reminds me when I need to exhibit grace.

As time passes my friends and family who have died become more precious to me and I find myself interacting with them more some days than when they were alive. I delight in them and am increasingly thankful they graced my life. I don't focus much on the fact that they're gone but concentrate intensely that they were here. I would never have become me without them.

It's a good Day of the Dead!

I'm already celebrating!

How are you going to celebrate it?
_________________________________________________
Ready for a good read? My new book "Sandy Bottoms & Duct Taped Hearts" is now available at http://www.meellc.com/wordpress/newbook/

Summer's gone

The Government has shut down because the idiots we've elected are self serving ideologues.

It says as much about us as it does them.

Having said that ... the skies an incredible deep blue. A brilliant yellow sun blazes on a glassy ocean reflecting white light in every direction. My toes dig in the cool sand and a crisp breeze blows from the north which I don't care for yet it's a pleasant morning. Seagulls squawk Hymns of praise, sand crabs dart into holes and a pod of Dolphins smile as they glide by me. I smile back.

Summer's gone ...

I've read somewhere that your favorite season is when you were born.

It's true for me.

My birthday is July and I love summer with everything in me!

September is a mixed bag full of college football and airplanes crashing into buildings. October is a cozy fire in the Chiminea and ghosts wandering the streets. Thanksgiving bleeds into Christmas, Chanukah or Ramadan throwing us into the New Year which is cold and dark. In the dead of winter we go searching for our hearts again.

My dear friend Mitch Wesley is a Celtic at heart and believes things take root in the cold hard ground. Growth begins in the dark times. Light burst out of emptiness, stones are rolled away and new lives are embraced. It starts when we embrace the darkness and you go from there.

I like the idea but hate the experience.

Give me miles and miles of clear blue skies, rum on ice, lazy days in a Paradise of white sand, aqua water and laundry neatly folded and put away. Days linger into warm nights with blazing stars and a moon dancing across the sky. Fireflies, Dragonflies and Butterflies are Angels spreading happiness and hope.

The Government has initiated the beginning of the dark period ... again. The Church will follow suit. Those who haven't taken sides yet will. Wars and the rumor of wars will increase. Hell will come on earth as it is in ... Hell. Heaven's just a wish for a warm heart on Valentine's Day when the world is cold and bitter.

 But ... today the sun shines down on me, the house is full of love as I work on things I love in bare feet. Dark things are happening but I refuse to be part of them. I love the Sun dancing on green leaves and casting white diamonds on the Sea. I love Home, the cicada songs, squirrels playing in Palm Trees and Pelicans diving into the ocean.

These are the things I will dwell on today.

The Government, the Church and the Powers that be can dwell on other things because I'm not going to be part of that world.

I'm staying where it's always summer.

Great Sluts!

The conversation at our house currently centers on great sluts of history.

"What?" you ask, spewing whatever it is you've just taken a sip.

It began over the choice of a Halloween costume.

Have you seen them recently?

When I was a kid, I draped a bath towel around my neck and told everybody I was Superman. This resulted in many compliments and tons of candy.

Once I found an old wig and a trench coat and transformed myself into "Tiny Tim" ... no one complimented me and I didn't get much candy.

It's not that way anymore!

The right Halloween costume is serious stuff and planning begins weeks in advance.

Last year, Sarah was Cat Woman in a tight fitting silky skin suit and a mask. Let you tell you ... the moaning that took place later that night downed out everything the Cat Lady and her feral collection next door has to offer.

Sarah also got shitloads of candy, twenty-two business cards, phone numbers written on paper napkins all thrown into bag made soggy by salivating fathers ... and mothers ... tossing things her way.

Her girls dressed accordingly.

Planning has begun for this year and one of the initial comments made was, "That costume will make you look like a slut. Let your grandmother make you one ... out of wool."

Of course this made me laugh like crazy and wanting to be a good influence, I've offered sound advice.

"Look," I said to the crushed child, "history is full of great sluts. There wouldn't be a Bible if it weren't for the sluts in them. Just tell them you're going to be a Biblical slut. Bathsheba for example. Or Rachel ... if you want to step out of the Bible into other religions you can start with Aphrodite ... if you want great historical sluts you can be Catherine the Great, Coco Channel, Madonna or Bill Clinton."

She stopped crying beginning to understand for the first time the preponderance of great sluts who've made contributions to history.

The great theologian Larkin Rossitter, at the Jefferson Street Baptist Chapel when I was employed as the "Professional Christian" explained ... "Look everyone is a whore. The question is whose you're pimp?"

We thought this a brilliant analogy ... which could be part of the reason I became an "Unprofessional Christian."

Regardless, I think it's harder to be a kid these days than when I was young. Today they control the universe through the Internet by the age of five. By 11 or 12, they're navigating the sexual landscape. By the time they're 14, they have defined their identities for life.

I'd rather work through these challenges with them than define the rules. The truth of the matter is we make our own rules anyway. They're made by dictatorial rule or in partnership. I prefer the latter.

When she got out of the car this morning, after spying her friends and immediately screaming, "HEY! Stop the car now! Those are my friends. Please, Please, Please, Please, Please ..."

So I did and she's immediately surrounded by love at that age ... boys and girls displaying affection for one another, obviously looking forward to the day ... the weekend ... Halloween.

"HEY!" I yell and she turns to look with an Angelic beautiful face, "Have slutty weekend."

And she laughs and dives into her friends which is what matters most to any kid.

Driving home, I reflect on last night when she, Sarah and I sat in the living room, flipping channels and talking. Making plans as partners do.
________________________________________________

An eccentric life dotted with eclectic characters pop from the pages of award winning author Micheal Elliott’s newest book Sandy Bottoms & Duct Taped Hearts. His musings immerse you in a world of headshaking wonder, gut wrenching laughter, heart touched tenderness and empathetic tears.

Order your copy now at http://www.meellc.com/wordpress/newbook/