Get your hands dirty

I don't think it is a generational issue, or correlated to age at all. It's not necessarily driven by social class either. My guess is, it must be a societal trend. We've forgotten the value of getting our hands dirty. This statement is in no way, amply supported; my gut feelings will have to suffice.

When my sister and I were little, we played outside nearly every single day. We had a world of make believe at our fingertips. To this day, a walk around the block brings back vivid memories. Torn jeans, muddy sneakers, and runny noses were indicators of a good day indeed. Capture the flag, running bases, and tag filled the warmer months. Building forts in the snow and sledding marked the winter ones. We were always moving, always exploring. 

My parents talk of similar childhoods. Dad didn't have a lot of toys so he had to work with what he had, or "borrow" things from his cousins. Miraculously, they still talk to him. They all lived together in a two family home, where I happen to live today. If I close my eyes, I can invision them playing together and growing up between these walls.  A few towns over, my Mom was living simillarly. She and her friends played house together, pairing off to make imaginary couples and wandering around Grace Avenue. They played games and made things with their hands. 

As adults, we don't have the same opportunities to play with wreckless abandon, although we can certainly channel our youth if we try. My papa is living proof that youth is a state of mind, not necessarily represented by your age. Gosh, I hope I stay half as cool as he is. Papa gets his hands dirty. He tinkers in the garage, teaches himself how to make different kinds of nautical knots, gardens, and builds. Maybe this is why he stays so young.

Dad works like no one else I know, and thankfully he instilled his views along the way. When I was old enough to work the power mower, he took me landscaping on weekends. If I was way thinner, I would be Jessica Biel in Summer Catch. Although it would seem totally unenjoyable, it is ( I still landscape now and then) and always was oddly rewarding. Dad says it builds character, and I whole-heartedly agree. To exert yourself and labor a little isn't like jumping in puddles or playing tag as a kid. But it's similar in the regard that there is a level of motor stimulation that triggers good feelings in the brain. There is evidentiary support of that... so there you have it.

Things come really easy in the modern age. I am immensely grateful for the ease with which we can access information, communicate, and experience our surroundings. Strides made in technology and the sciences are awe-inspiring. Sometimes though, I fear we are complicating the formula for happiness. A patch of pavement and some chalk was sufficient to occupy us for hours when we were young. And obviously, there were no tablets but we made it ok. Kids should play outside, and get dirty. 

As for me, there's always grass to be cut.

The Friend Zone

For most of my high school and college years, I resided in this trying place known as "The Friend Zone". Because I am now happily in a relationship that was well worth the wait, I think it is finally ok to share my tales of woe. An episode of MTV's Girl Code, a hilarious show I have grown somewhat fond of, sparked a memory for me. Since the pseudo-scars of early womanhood have healed, why not make a joke of it. For a giggle, or ten, check it out.

In high school, I was blissfully busy with schoolwork and extracurricular activities. If possible, from what I recall, I was not super preoccupied with finding a mate. Sure I had crushes, and many awkward let downs. When you hear the guy you were pining after found a super hot girlfriend. Haven't we all? If not, just pretend to understand. I also kept in the back of my mind the belief that high school guys were a tad immature and just made better friends, and I would find a companion in college. Also, I did not have a lot of game. I think my Dad maybe even told me this once, but he meant it lovingly like, "Oh Francesca, don't be concerned, other girls just have more game than you. But never change. You are perfect, and someone will adore you like I do." Aw, thanks Dad.

College came and there were indeed handsome and bright guys all around. Many had girlfriends, or just worked the masses with their dimples and long LAX bro hair. Nice to look at no less, but alas they were not my match.  I developed a considerable crush on a guy in one of my classes, who was genuinely a kind and intelligent person. I thought we were connecting on many levels, and I guess in retrospect we were. But he fed me a classic "Friend Zone" line, that he had just gotten out of a long, serious relationship. Today, he is dating a young man as equally as handsome as he, so I suppose it wasn't me that was the issue,  just my gender.

I think I probably tried too hard, mostly because I really wanted to find a companion. Over-thinking every word and deed, and generating in my mind these elaborate justifications that the guy I liked really did like me too. Until I read this, and it became clear. He was just not that into me.

I met a few guys older than me, at church of all places. Thank you Jesus, for hooking a sister up! One was a grad student, and the other an alum about 10 years older than me. Another lightbulb in retrospect: Francesca, look for older guys.  Nothing ever got too serious, but I do believe that everyone you meet has something to teach you if you look hard enough. I came away from every encounter more capable of navigating the WTF moments of dating/ trying to date.

There were always warning signs that I was in the "Friend Zone" and now I can identify them. Some of the more obvious ones, I failed to recognize:

"You will make a wonderful mother someday" - This melted my heart, of course. What a compliment. But when coming from a young man it typically meant, you are a nurturing and kind soul, but I do not want to date you.

"Want to study with me?" - Again, super flattering. Someone admires my intellect? He must want to be my boyfriend. No, sorry. If he wants to be your boyfriend, he will ask you to dinner or try to bed you, ASAP. 

"I really enjoy your company, but..." - The but is never, ever good. If a guy wants to be with you, he will break down a wall to do so. Although I tried ever so diligently to prove myself otherwise, it just wasn't meant to be in many cases. 

I wish I had known some of these things then, but I have emerged from the battlefield and am doing just fine. It was not all for naught. For other wallflowers that may have a hard time dating, do not be discouraged. Celebrate who you are, and don't change for anyone. Although it will be saddening in the moment, the best is yet to come. Relationships that do not materialize prepare you for different and hopefully better things and well, people.

Someone will love every part of you.

And rain will make the flowers grow

Theater buffs among you will know those lyrics are from Les Miserables, and sung during Eponine's heart wrenching last moments. If you could care less about theater, that is certainly fine as well. The message is one of hope and I think it is relevant most days, but especially today, twelve years after many innocent lives were taken from us.

The song is called "A Little Fall of Rain" and as earlier mentioned, it marks the last breathes for a young woman, who led a life far from what she had dreamt. She doesn't receive the affection of the man she adores, as he is madly in love with someone else. He still comes to her side to comfort her before she departs,  and their exchange is so poignant. "If I could heal your wounds with words of love."  If only...

All the while, rain falls. Eponine musters the courage to be brave, speaking of the cathartic nature of the rain, falling upon the Earth and making flowers bloom anew. She is undeniably afraid but continues to find solace in this motif of rain. "This rain will wash away what's past."  I don't necessarily agree that anything painful will ever be completely past us, but I suppose life and all its demands propel us to find the strength to continue. 

I am guilty, and I am sure most of us are, of sometimes focusing my energies on frivolous things I cannot control. Irrational fears about the future, or hell, about the present for that matter. Am I doing enough to build a future I can be proud of? What is my purpose and what does it all mean? Then there is the really insignificant stuff. Does this dress make me look fat or is my hair a hot mess? Why did that random stranger just cut me off and scream obscenities. Ugh, the line at the super market is so very long and I am hungry... The list goes on. It takes a conscious effort to try and quiet these nagging voices in my head. They don't help in any way, if anything they deter from any sort of productive action and motivation to better myself. 

Yet, life is not all daisies and butterflies. Not even close.  We cannot will all the bad things to go away. Periods of loss and sadness we have to face. Broken hearts. Even expectations that are deflated and plans that do not come to fruition deliver a crushing blow.  I don't think everything happens for the best, or else young parents would never abandon their babies all because they went to work on an average, sunny day.  Parents wouldn't bury their children. People would live to old age with the ones they love. Still, I have to believe in a place where we can learn from what hurts us. We cannot bring loved ones back, but maybe they never leave us in the first place if they reside in our heart. 

It is worthwhile and necessary to be brave, and just try. To put our best foot forward, or even just  foot forward, and do what we can, where we are. Life is fragile and we should smell the flowers more often. Breathe in some fresh air. And remember not to curse the rain as it serves its purpose too in this grand, confusing scheme. 

May God watch over the fallen and their families, today and always. As well as anyone who ails in their heart, whatever the reason.

"He has achieved success...

...who has lived well, laughed often and loved much; who has gained the respect of intelligent men and the love of little children; who has filled his niche and accomplished his task; who has left the world better than he found it, whether by an improved poppy, a perfect poem, or a rescued soul; who has never lacked appreciation of earth's beauty or failed to express it; who has always looked for the best in others and given them the best he had; whose life was an inspiration; whose memory a benediction." -Bessie Stanley, 1905

Hello Friday, nice to see you again. And September... Where the heck did you come from? Regardless, happy to have you both. Sunshine, thank you for joining the party. It would be terribly dull without you.

The weeks go quickly and if I don't take a moment to appreciate the small moments that comprise them, I may miss something special. The angst of young adulthood sometimes leaves me a bit on edge, though.

That's why I love, love, love this quote. A few read throughs, and five deep breathes and I am back in a happy place. To whom do I owe my thanks? I was interested to know more about the woman this consoling declaration is attributed to. A Google search of Bessie Stanley revealed a series of entries about this poem but little else.

Thanks to this nifty website, I read the history behind the poem Success. It was commonly credited incorrectly to the prolific Ralph Waldo Emerson. According to Bessie's great granddaughter, the poem  was the winning entry in a contest run by Brown Book Magazine in 1904. The winnings of $250, back then was enough to pay off the author's mortgage and then some. My, how things have changed.

There were no other books or projects by Bessie Stanley widely publicized. Sure the early 1900's lacked the same, robust methods of documentation we have these days. Nonetheless, her name is not readily recognized, nor can I seem to find other things she left behind. Just this brief paragraph, which in essence does exactly what she defines as a "success".

Thank you, Bessie. You've done well.

With much love,

2013

All You Need is Love and Country Music

I have always been a fan of country music, at least for as long as I can remember having an iPod. Even before then, my Mama loved the feel good tunes the genre is known for so we were exposed to it at the very least. I can recall my first Rascal Flatts concert. Regina, my sister, and I balled our eyes out when the guys sang "He Ain't the Leavin' Kind",  while military officers marched on stage in front of a backdrop of beautiful imagery: American flags, families reunited, all that good stuff. Getting chills all over again just thinking about it.

My affinity for country music has been heightened even more so of late. My boyfriend James is a former Marine, although you are never really a former US Marine. That allegiance is hard coded into your psyche indefinitely. Unfaltering patriotism and loyalty are forever etched into his soul; that level of commitment is remarkable to me. Sometimes living with James is like being in my own little boot camp. Through him I am able to share some of his unforgettable experiences. I can't claim to understand his memories; those are priceless and he earned them. But I can still appreciate him for all he, and people like him, have done so selflessly. After his tours as a Combat engineer, positions in Paris and Jerusalem exposed him to culture, history, and decadent cuisines. A five year stint in Texas left him with an adorable twang, adoration of and savvy preparing smoked meat, a knack for line dancing, and last but not least a love affair with country music.

Thankfully, James introduced us to NASH FM. Being a Jersey girl, it was hard to find a good source of country tunes on FM radio. While at college and carless, I didn't have the same free time to listen to tunes anyway. Since the hurricane (our term of endearment for James) moved to the metropolitan region, the whole family has been converted. Regardless of what vehicle you find yourself in, and among my immediate family there are five, you are sure to hear 94.7 blaring.  My morning commute has never been more enjoyable. Although I only have 15 minutes in the car, they are 15 happy ones. The personalities on the Morning Show are vibrant and funny. The content is clean, uplifting, and yes, still entertaining. I don't know the cast personally, they seem like genuinely good folks and I love spending my mornings with them.

The parents, my sister, James and I found ourselves barreling down the Parkway for a beach day this past weekend, and we sang to our hearts' content the whole way there. Luke, Blake, Florida Georgia Line.... and the smell of salt water. It was the quintessential American experience. (Mom drives a Chevy; only American cars in our family.) At home, the story is the same. James rigged speakers in our garage so he can listen to music while he plays darts. He has loads of Spotify playlists spanning country music history. Colt Ford, Jason Aldean, Conway Twitty - the whole gang. These are my companions and I wouldn't trade them.

In this region, country music doesn't always get the appreciation it deserves. Sometimes there is a stigma associated with it. Some people just prefer the Kanye or Gaga types. There is a place for all genres. But if you really distill down the content we are exposing ourselves and younger generations to, I think we should do our best to emphasize the country variation more strongly. Maybe society wouldn't be on quite the downward spiral.

Lee says,

"Be a best friend, tell the truth. And overuse "I love you".  Go to work, do your best. Don't outsmart your common sense. Never let your prayin' knees get lazy. And love like crazy."

Sounds about right to me.

Justin Moore would visit loved ones If Heaven Wasn't So Far Away. According to Miranda's A Heart Like Mine, we would all increase our tolerance of people's differences.  The intoxicating nature of being in love and "This life would kill me If I Didn't Have You".

There is a fair dose of sadness - the heartbreak of losing people dear to us. Most of my favorite songs bring me to tears before the last measure.  I think part of the comfort with discussing the tough topics like lives ended too soon, sickness, and heartbreak, is their closeness to God. If anything, it is admirable to be courageous enough to acknowledge the vulnerability of the human condition and embrace it with open arms. "I Will See You Again".

What is quite important to notice is what they are not singing about. Not many references to violence (except kicking an ass or two, but all in good fun or if it is deserved). They discuss the derrier of course, but the dialogue is a far cry from over-sexualizing men and women. I cannot find that many if any mentions of rape, explicit content, slurs, and diminutive language. They like beer, but who doesn't. Probably a safer bet than Molly's. Maybe Robin and Miley can learn a thing or two from Carrie and Brad. We can only hope there would be fewer news headlines about twerking and infidelity.

  • Proud of coming from Flyover States and Small Town USA.
  • They support the brave troops who protect us. Just ask Toby.
  • Always have fun at The Parking Lot Party or in Red High Heels.
  • And People are Crazy.  Well, obviously. 

The underlying themes are consistent. God, Family, Country... Loyalty, Love, Resilience.  I can't argue with those.  There is an immense amount of fun, kissing, beer, and the like. I still choose country over many other popular genres, hands down.

Like I said before, there is certainly a place for different music, beliefs, and forms of expression. That is what makes this America. Fine men and women fight day in and out here and abroad, so we can listen to and say whatever we wish, even if sometimes what we come up with is probably better left unsaid/undone. But I would recommend a healthy dose of NASH FM if you need some perspective. Don't be surprised if you have a more inspired, fun-loving, and grateful attitude afterwards.