Memorial Day

On Memorial Day our West Coast weather was cool and gray. It wasn't a good day for a picnic so I stayed inside and worked on my journals. That was OK since I've never really been into Memorial Day. To me, it's a false holiday. I know we're supposed to be honoring our dead soldiers, but after being inundated with constant media hype and hearing the same old speeches regurgitated from our politicians' lips about the sacrifices of our noble fallen, I feel like what we're really honoring is war itself. Or sacrifice. The very word "sacrifice" makes me want to puke -- like sacrificing your life in a pointless war is a noble act. It's not a noble act. It's very, very sad.

I'm sad when I reflect on the wasted lives of these young soldiers. World War II may have been a necessary war, but I can't see the point of the rest of them, the ones that have been going on since my birth. I'm 60 now so my life has been a backdrop to 60 years of pointless tragic wars. I find that very depressing. Our glorification of our military's heroism and bravery (like that justifies the endless carnage) makes me sick. Anyhow, we have Veterans Day coming up on November 11 so Memorial Day seems redundant. Mournful November is a much more appropriate time for honoring our dead.

Let's face it: what Memorial Day really commemorates is the beginning of summer and that's a time for celebration, not for mourning -- while Labor Day marks the end of summer (as determined by the school calendar, that is). Since I don't have kids and I'm not a teacher, I don't really care.