My Mix Tape

I love mix tapes (or, now, playlists). They capture specific emotions or moments. Perfect football tailgating tunes. Concert prep tunes. Breakup tunes. Memories of clubbin' in college tunes (aka Kicks Remix). Windows down, sunshine tunes. Whatever.

I used to make mix tapes for people, especially in college (they made great gifts). I made them for select special boys in my life.  They don't have to be 'new' songs, just songs for a moment or memory in that time. I like to think of John Cusack (the AMAZING John Cusack) in "High Fidelity" when I work up my mix tapes.

The last year has been a rollercoaster. Lots of great times, some sadness. And, just like every other time in my life, there was a soundtrack. So, my 2011-2012 Becca Mix Tape:

'Love Done Gone' by Billy Currington - how I felt early last summer, before it all settled in.

'Springsteen' by Eric Church - after seeing a certain Jersey boy recently, and talking about that Jeep... a melody feels like a memory. A timely tune.

'Colors' by Grace Potter and the Nocturnals - her soulful, pure voice brings color to my world.

'Seventy Times Seven' by Brand New - the pain of realizing that someone is a coward and a quitter, and the pain you want to inflict so they hurt like you did.

'Hell On Heels' by Pistol Annies - because he made me pretty, he made me smart, and I'm gonna break me a million hearts.


'Into the Mystic' by Van Morrison as covered by ZBB - it fills me with hope for whatever reason. Maybe that there is someone to rock my gypsy soul.


'Please Come To Boston' generally, Kenny Chesney's version - because there ain't no gold and there ain't nobody like me. And I'm a ramblin' girl who won't settle down.

'I Would Do Anything For You' by Foster the People - a great, fun, non-sappy-sounding love song by a great band. Who needs a significant other to share it with? It puts a smile on my face. I had to pick one song from this album, so I went with this one.  And I like to air keyboard.

'Homeboy' by Eric Church - yup, he reappears, especially since this tune hits a soft spot. I generally don't think 2 songs from the same artist (and same album) should appear on the same mix tape, but this is a special exception.

'One and Only' by Adele - 21 was an album about a 'rubbish relationship' as she tells it.  Every song on this album is powerful and amazing - I could include every one on this mix tape.  But, this song for me is a song of redemption.  I hope someone will dare me to give my heart up, and I could do it. I think the song also captures the range of power and desire of her voice.

Nana +5

I was planning on doing this last month on the anniversary of her death, but I think it is more appropriate now since my family is planning our annual trek to the cemetery and celebration this coming weekend.

That Friday morning in 2007 when my mother called to tell me that Nana had passed - the morning before our family was going to trek to Atlantic City to say our goodbyes - was a beautiful day in Newark, and I was getting ready to head out the door to work, preparing for the celebration to be had with her the next day (along with the tearful goodbyes), but that didn't happen.  I like to think that she decided to pass before we all got there to either a) save us the sadness; or b) have one last chuckle to herself before going out. I like to think it was a combination of both.  I skipped work and just crawled into bed; I thought about all the amazing memories I had with her and Boppy.

And, as I thought about then, and even more so now, I realize that we were all robbed of so many years of great memories because of her disease.  Yes, she was there, but her witty (or wise ass) comments, guidance, and laughter were slower and fewer between because she couldn't physically say the it.  And while her facial expression always said it, we rarely heard "Oh honey" in that very maternal, very loving, voice that only she had.  Then it became more of a heartache to see her like that - I didn't want to remember her like that.  I think that is why I didn't go see her solo as much as I should have - I was selfish, and I just couldn't bring myself to do it.  I needed support from others - support that she usually gave me. So, I would wait for the rest of the family, and go with them.  I have a picture of all my aunts and uncles, with Nana and Boppy, the last time we were all there the summer before she died, sitting on my bookshelf.  My living room wall is also adorned with pictures of Nana and I sitting at the table of 117 doing inventory - both with our giant adding machines and papers; walking along the boardwalk with my Kid Sister in my stroller; me and Jimmy out front of Lucy with her; walking home one Easter Sunday down Center Ave. in my mini-pea coat and saddle shoes.

One of the greatest things I learned from her is to have empathy for other people.  Not sympathy - where you "feel sorry" for them - but being able to put yourself in their shoes and "feel their pain." That is true key to compassion and love.  The other is to make decisions for you (not your husband, parents, or whomever - for you) and to back them up with logic, feelings, and truth; to stick by your guns and fight the good fight for something (or someone) you believe in; to evolve. Well, OK, there's a lot of things I learned from her.  If only we had her to impart these things on other people; somehow I don't think we are as effective.  I will say that I am very lucky to have a wonderful aunt fill in for her in times of crisis, and the last few years have certainly brought up times of crisis; I just hope I can have that impact on someone, or at least an opportunity to impart that knowledge on someone in the future, and they actually heed it.

I would have loved to have her been able to dance at Erik and Jimmy's weddings (and whatever other ones may be coming up); give a stern talking to to Keith; tell my brothers to GO READ A BOOK because they are bored; meet Little Dude; see Melissa and I finish graduate school; dance around the kitchen to Lady Gaga or Kenny Chesney or Taylor Swift or Katy Perry or anything post-TLC's "Waterfalls;" to argue politics with her some more (I am sure she is rolling over in her grave over my bleeding-heart liberal stances; but I think she would be proud of me for making logical, articulate arguments and standing up for what I believe in). I would have loved to have been able to crawl up next to her for a hug last spring and summer when my heart was breaking for so many months as I fought to make things work. Just have her hug me, then give me some inspirational kick in the ass to keep calm and carry on.  Or hear her words of strength and wisdom after that dreadful April 16th, just a few weeks after we lost her.

But, we don't have that luxury.  We do have the memories she gave us, and rely on her strength even though she isn't here.  So, even now, 5 years later, I sometimes still feel lost without her.  We must find strength in our memories of her, pick ourselves up by our bootstraps and carry on; we reach out to others; we fight for what we believe in - we fight the good fight.   And, by doing that, we keep her memory alive. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Peace With Inches

We all have to fight our way back into the light - we can climb out of hell.  One inch at a time.

As I was out for my walk yesterday, my "Hotel Hazing" mix playlist came on - starting with the Peace With Inches speech, to Firestarter, to Welcome to the Jungle, to Enter Sandman, to Let the Bodies Hit the Floor.  In the climatic series of events in "Any Given Sunday", Al Pacino's coach gives an awesome inspiring speech to his team. You can find it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qQUBq2blgjU and http://www.justsomelyrics.com/910133/Any-Given-Sunday-Peace-With-Inches-Lyrics

Before our Hotel initiation, this was played before breaking into "Firestarter" to kick of a night of hazing. And it was great.  The speech is an inspiration, a memory and a piece of me for many reasons.  I know that all of those guys who did that with me are always there, no matter how long it has been since we have seen or spoke.  The same goes for all the kids who came after us.


That's part of life. But you only learn that when you start losing stuff. You find out life's this game of inches.

I found myself identifying with it in a new way as I get older.  It isn't about me and my buds getting through freshman year to initiation, it wasn't about getting pumped for a football game, it wasn't about getting amped to do unto others as they did unto us, it wasn't about saying goodbye after graduation to the people who clawed with you, it wasn't about looking back on some great memories with great people.  It was about surrounding myself with people who view life like I do, enjoying the ride with them, being there for them (and them me) and if they don't - then they can "die as individuals."

We claw with our fingernails for that inch. Because we know when we add up all those inches, that's gonna make the f#@*ing difference between winning and losing! Between living and dying!

Things were topsy turvy lately - adjustment, 518 nothing to do winter, realizations, reverting back, change, solo single gal.  Everyone has an "off" time in their life, whatever it may be.  It's what you do after you realize you are in your own "hell."  But, every inch forward is a step forward.  We don't sit at home and wallow in our sorrow - we giddy on up and live life.  Live! Live! Live!  It sometimes get darker before it gets lighter, but you claw, and dig for that inch closer and closer to the light.  But, we don't realize that sometimes we find ourselves in that "hell" because the guy next to you - whether it is friends, significant other, family - decides not to claw with you.  He won't go that inch with you. Even though you would do the same for him.  And that is, at times, what digs us deeper and deeper down.  You expect teammates to dig and claw with you.  Then they don't.

And I know if I'm going to have any life anymore, it's because I'm still willing to fight and die for that inch.

They don't believe in fighting with the guy next to him, whomever it may be, to dig back into the light.  But, we refuse to accept people like that in our lives.  Al Pacino would have kicked his sorry ass out of the locker room.  And, we have to decide whether we are going to do the same.  We pick ourselves up, look in the mirror and re-evaluate the teammates in our lives.  Are they worth clawing for?  Are you worth their help?

When we find out that they are either too scared, weak, or lousy to claw with you - we must allow them to dig their own hole and we start clawing ourselves out.   It may be hard.  But, that's a choice we have to make.

We must climb out one inch at a time, and do it with the guy next to you.  If they claw with you.

Now, what are you going to do?  
I'm a firestarter.  Terrific firestarter.

The Evolution of the Good Fight

Generally we all know time will allow the truth to come out, and will also heal all wounds.  We find the truth in why or how things happens, and what the motivations are.  Sometimes it takes days or weeks; maybe sometimes months or years.  Or it takes a specific separate, but related event, to trigger the unveiling of the truth.  I have found that a lot of the roller coaster emotion that people face often relate to whether they or those around them are willing to fight the good fight.  Fight or flight?

I feel that over the past however long I went all the way - fought the good fight.  Nothing different that what I do in every area of my life - no half-assing, fighting the good fight, don't quit until all avenues have been attempted (I mean, I instigated a holy war with some members of my family because of something I believe in - can't wait for Christmas!).  There are clearly times when you give it all and it won't change; so you accept, adapt and overcome.  But, that should come at the end of the good fight - not before or during.  To the death (and you don't against a Sicilian when death is on the line). 

Obviously, not everyone has that approach, whether personally or professionally, and while that boggles my mind, it is something that I must accept. Judge me if you will, but I believe that not fighting the good fight is a symbol of cowardice - whether they are afraid of facing reality, facing the truth, or facing their fear. My preachiness and attempt to enlighten can only go so far when it comes to that.  But, I really don't think that's what it is - willing to "go the distance" should not be something that only a select few believe in, but a quality that makes a good leader, a good person, a good friend; taking the easy walk doesn't make you a better person.

I admit that maybe I wasn't always like this - I was afraid.  I had to learn that sometimes giving up on the good fight is worse and more painful than facing that fear.  I was probably used to people around me giving up, so I thought that was the way it went - a father who gave up and decided that I wasn't his kid (when I was 16 and stood up for myself, albeit I stood up for myself with a bit of spazziness as a 16 year old would); a stepfather who bailed on 5 of us.  It took me losing people, things, etc in order to figure out that everything important to you is worth fighting for.  I know I broke hearts and disappointed people, but I was lucky enough to learn that before I was ushered into real, post-college adulthood (because, really, "grown-up" doesn't start until you leave the awesomeness of a college environment).

When people give up on something they believe in, they care for, whatever, that ends with other people involved feeling used or abused.  Certainly unworthy.  Sometimes people just need to know they are worth fighting for.  So, we accept, adapt and overcome the fact that there are people like that.  No matter how painful it is, some people just don't believe in the good fight; they would rather take the easy road.  Their loss.