Remember Elian????

Remember the whole ordeal? The media coverage, the politics, the protests. Remember how some thought the Cuban Community in Miami were a bunch of crazies? The Miami Mafia as Castro named them? Remember how adamently those Cuban-Americans argued?


We argued not because we don’t believe a child belongs with his parents. Ideally, every child should have a loving, nurturing home with a mother and father. No argument there. What we were really arguing so vehemently about is that, in Cuba, the child belongs to the state. The government only “allows” you to raise them. And then, only raise them a certain way and to a certain age.

If you are a dissident, labeled as such because you desire certain freedoms that are basic to the human species, then the Castro regime can and will take your child away. Fidel can’t have this “anti-revolutionary” sentiment handed down to the next generation.

Can’t believe it? Read on….

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Freedom of Religion

Much ado about religious freedoms lately with the Moore thing in Alabama and the “monument.” Many differing opinions covering the entire spectrum. I am of the school of thought that, as long as someone’s religious ideology is not detrimental to me, more power to them. Live and let live as they say.

Since we are free to worship (or not) God in our own way here in the United States, we tend to take it for granted. But imagine living in a place where you weren’t free to do so. Such is the case with Cuba.

Christmas was banned in Cuba for decades. It was only the Pope’s visit a few years ago that lifted those religious shackles.

Yet, any form of worship in Cuba, other than worshipping el Comandante, is frowned upon, and, in some cases is cause for “encarceration” and detainment.

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I Am Spent

It has been a rough day. I am emotionally wasted. Today has been a day of grappling with sorrow and unbelievable anger. A constant wrestling match against a tag team. I can’t even begin to write anything. Reading all of the accounts and entries and comments about this day from exceptional people such as kelley and sheila and david, among many others, and all of their links and emotions expressed in beautiful words, then trying to blog anything of such subtelty and feeling, for me, would be like dancing at the top’s house.

Please, do my blogroll, read them all. I did. And I am a better person for it.


The Showtime network has an excellent show depicting a collection of short films by university students dealing with 9/11. All the films are available on their website.

Perhaps the most moving is the one that accompanies this poem:

From the 104th Floor
by Leda Rodis (age 14)

When the plane hit the building
rocked first
to the right
to the left,
and outside all the skyscrapers
of New York
seemed to tremble.

The alarms screamed louder
than we did, and I knew
it was time to get away. It’s funny
what you notice:
a pen rolling across the floor
my screen saver flicker and go off
a picture of you
and me
at Coney Island.

So much to leave behind. And yet so little.

Running down the hall I remembered
my mother
taking me to the top
of the Empire
State Building when I was just
a little girl,
telling me that a plane
had crashed there a long
time ago. So I thought that maybe
what happened. Just
an accident. And accidents
happen everyday.

Under the blown-out exit sign
a crowd
is screaming,
on the door.
I know:


You have to believe that I tried. I’m not the one
to give up.
Back at my desk, I rescue
the rolling pen,
at the blank screen, and
my picture
of you.
I look out
at the blue morning.
I expect
to see God there.
But what I really see is
another plane.
And I know what it means.
But I don’t know why…

I always thought that life was full of choices.
It always has been.
What to wear
Where to eat
Who to love
(and you know who I chose).

Now my choices have been taken away from me.
The men in the planes have narrowed my choices
Death by fire, or death by fall.

I see the smoke
filling the room
It’s hard to breathe

I look towards the open window.
would falling feel like?

I remember the roller coaster at Coney Island.

The wind tugging at my hair
How good it felt to scream.
The feeling in my stomach.

And how all the way down

I was with you.

September 11

Two years ago today at 8:46 AM our world changed drastically. I have always thought that as Americans, with the busy lives we live, we tend to have short memories. Michele reminds us that today is a day that, even as busy Americans, it is our duty to remember. To hold as sacred. Take some time today to visit Michele’s Voices of 9/11 project. It is truly a labor of love and dedication.

Whatever side of the political spectrum you are on, remember this day.
(link via Serenity’s Journal)

Dean has not forgotten either.

Tennis Anyone?

Babalu is already weighing almost 12 pounds and absolutely loves being outside. Believe it or not, at 11 weeks, he’s already fetching and yet still has puppy breath.


Now, let me tell you a little story….

Some of you may remember that I lost my dog Othello back in July. He was a very unique dog. The prototypical Alpha male. Well, the wife and I decided to get a new dog quickly as Katy, Othello’s mom and companion, at 16 years old, was depressed at his loss. Along comes Babalu.

Now, everyone remembers the term “Babalu” from Desi Arnaz and the I love Lucy show. What not everyone knows is that “Babalu Aye” is the name of an Afro-Cuban god. To the Orishas, Babalu Aye is St. Lazaro, the cripple on crutches with two dogs at his side. It is said that Babalu Aye died as punishment for his sins, but was later brought back to life by the supreme Orisha being, Olodumare.

Othello had his own character. He would not eat if you were watching him, nor would he do his business afterword if you were watching him. He loved hugs, digging his head into my chest and just hanging out there. He loved my dad. You could never get him away from my father. He also would not let the dog groomer that comes to our house get anywhere near him. He would show his teeth and growl.

Well, Babalu is the exact same way. We took him to dad’s house the other day and he was glued to my father. Would not leave his side. He is also the same way about his food and his business. Babalu loves to get hugged just like Othello. To top it off, the groomer came by yesterday and Babalu, for the first time, growled at him.

I think, maybe, theres a little Othello in Babalu. Even though they are completely different breeds, the similarities in characters is eerie. Maybe Othello’s not done guarding me yet and he’s making sure I am still ok.

Miami Dolphins

The Miami Dolphins lost their season opener at home yesterday to the, I shudder to say, Houston Texans, 21-20. I am pissed. Seems they picked up right were they left off last year.

This little guy is pissed too:

Dolphins 2.jpg

Don’t worry Brandon, it’s a long season. And any given Sunday…..

Lemme Splain….El Leenkaso forehgive mye espanglich, pero toodaye gwee haf a tremendo leenkaso…

Primero, La Kelley wants to know about your umm, sleeping…err..ummm waking habits. Mucho interesante.

Segundo, David is a little miffed by the latest debate going around.

Entonces, El sargento Hook gives us a little levity, courtesy of, well, some asshats over in Europe.

La Serena is taking on the RIAA. Music to my ears.

El Aguila Gris splains whats wrong with the donkeys.

Dean once again wants to state for the record that he has no, and I mean not a single one, pictures of Mary Kate and Ashley nude. Nada. Ninguna.

La Diosa wants us to play with words.

Something to think about over at La Pelirojas Place.

I am told over at Inoperable Terran we have to Bitchslap Ted Rall. Si!

Be careful who you criticize says A Little More to the Derecha.

Dees guy that Bryan of Gritandole a Letreros ees talking about I really really no like. And I don’t mean Dennis Miller.

Raquel has somes points to make about the gay marriage thing.

Andrea reassures us that the Pope, is, in fact, Catholic.

Dave wants to know about those forgotten days of yore, the college years. And don’t worry about the picture on the site. El Che is dead.

The Social Reject has un mensaje for los trolls.

And please, dont forget to give me a date for the demise of the bearded one.

Sincerest Gratitude

Thanks to all of you for your concern and support for me and Othello. You all are outstanding people for having comforted me with your thoughts, prayers and best wishes during this very difficult crisis. I am humbled by the fact that despite everything that is going on in the world lately, you all took the time to offer a don’t worry he’ll be back, or a we’ll be thinking about you and Othello. And when the news came in, you offered your heartfelt condolences and sympathies.
I feel honored and privileged to call you all my friends.

I thank you, and my dog, now staunchly guarding St. Peter’s gates, I’m sure thanks you too.