Saved by the Becky

Becky


1 I am impaired in my assessment of you, Rebecca, because I regretfully do not know you very well. I cannot delve into what makes you tick, or what hidden virtues I’m sure you possess. I’m afraid the best I can do is expound on how great you are through my limited knowledge of you, gleaned mostly through picking Sam up at your house.

I know that you’re sweet and good-humored, Becky. I haven’t spent enough time with you to know how funny you are, but based on your adaptability to my brother’s constant slurs and insanity, I’d wager that you can be quite the little comedienne when you want.

You are certainly hospitable, there can be no question about that. Though you only knew me through my lunatic sibling and possibly my lunatic friends EJ and Tony, you welcomed me right into your home and social circle without blinking. I am deeply moved by your acceptance of me. I’m not socially skilled by any stretch of the imagination, and it usually takes me a while to ingratiate myself. You just snatched me in with a hug and a smile.
I’m not the only one you welcomed readily, either. Andrew, Caitlin, and even Steve and Amy (who some have understandably given the cold shoulder to) you took in warmly and without hesitation. We thank you.

You are possibly the most eager and skilled hugger I have ever had the pleasure of embracing. Becky, you hug indiscriminately and with sincerity. You hug tightly and warmly and with genuine affection.

You have a smile that can (and has) melted glaciers.

I know that you are a loving sister. Your brothers seem to be a handful, and, though you’re tough with them sometimes, you are possibly the most caring sibling I have met in my travels. This is quite an accomplishment considering most teenagers’ propensity for shunning family.

I believe you have decent taste in film and music.

I know you are athletically skilled.

I know you’re reasonably bright. (Probably very bright, but, again, I am operating on minimal exposure here.)

You also seem to have a strong religious sense, which, if you read my Live Journal at all, you know counts highly with me.

I cannot say much more about you, Becky, but what I know is this: You are kind, affectionate, and caring. You are sweet and tolerant and very pretty. You no doubt have bushels of other talents and qualities, but this is all I know.
And, based on how wonderful you seem, this is enough.

2 Movie: I get a sort of teen-movie vibe from you, Beckster. The quality kind, mind you, not the raunchy, insipid kind. You’re like the level-headed, slightly quirky friend character that guides the leads through their troubles.
Or, something like Labyrinth, because you have an air of whimsical fancy about you.

Song: Minority, by Green Day. You have a very appealing, adorably spunky punk rocker attitude lying submerged slightly off shore. The hard-edged angsty music doesn’t quite suit you, but, in some odd way, it does.
Also, Dancing Queen, by ABBA, because you’re silly sometimes, like ABBA.

Mike Doughty song: Oddly enough the only thing I can come up with is Saint Louise is Listening.
It’s one of Mike’s more surreal ones from his heroines injecting Soul Coughing days. I have a less than tentative grasp on what the hell it’s about, but I think it might involve an honest girl ("she’s widely known the only maquereau that pays her taxes") who is targeted by some shady guy who wants to "box her for the money."
What this has to do with you, or with Eskimos, I cannot guess. Mike was heavy into the drugs at this time.
But the girl’s innocence, and the chorus, "You don’t use words like that, St. Louise is Listening," somehow strikes a chord.

3 Becky, you seem like all hours of the day. Perhaps I cannot pin-point it because I do not know you well enough. I want to say around 6 in the morning, when the dew is on the grass and the birds have started chirping merrily, but I fear you might be insulted. I’ll go with that anyway. In the summer, though, you’d be, so that there’s no threat of school hanging over one’s head. And it’d be a . . . Thursday. 6 AM on a summer Thursday. The week end spread out before you, the grass green, the sky blue, the air crisp. Hurray!

4 Radiant. Though you have naturally tan skin and are otherwise rather dusky hued, you seem to sparkle with an inner light that makes all those around you buoyant and joyful.

5 Memorable moment: I’ll have to say when you kept lookout whilst Sam and I pilfered the Thirsty Mind sign in the middle of The Commons parking lot. Then when we nearly crushed you by wedging the precious booty into the backseat of the ‘Falcon, and you had to sit crammed betwixt us both for the ride home.

Good times.

We need to go on another caper together.

Oh, or when you took pictures of me, Sam, Tony, and Andy with our pants down. That was nice of you.

6 Becky, you’re a bit like a frisky kitten, and, for some reason, I see wallaby and seal as well. I cannot justify this.
Dog: I’m gonna have to go with black Cocker Spaniel puppy again.

7 I’ve always wondered . . . uh . . . a lot of basic personal things about you I’ve never gotten a chance to learn. Mostly favorites and past experiences.

8 Kelly Green. (Nope, that’s a joke. Sam made me put it in.) Kewpie Doll on your jacket.

9 Okay. Here’s the scene: You, me, Andy, Sam, and Adam bust into a Friendly’s for brekkist. We barely manage to scarf down plates of bacon and flapjacks while making each other nearly vomit with laughter. Then we tip, but sneak out without paying.
We head to the Hadley Mall, stopping on our way to run through a field for no apparent reason, and take hilarious pictures.
Next we sneak into a movie. The ticket cracker almost nabs Sam, but you deftly trip him down a flight of stairs and save the day. He wakes up in the hospital.
We go get ice cream somewhere. Somewhere with cows. You wave to the cows. Sam calls them Jews.
Then back to Andy’s house for clam chowder and a recording session in which I lay down a intro and Adam, Sam, and Andy serenade you spontaneously. (The record goes platinum.)
Then we go to your house. Sam wrestles with Maximus while we all watch a movie.
Finally, we pile into Knox (the tentative name for my new car) and tool around the neighborhood tossing glass bottles at shit. Eventually we wind up at The Commons and swipe a trunk load of junk, with your aid and supervision. We steal the Pendelton sign, bury it half deep in your grouchy neighbor’s lawn, then light it on fire and run away to establish our alibi.
Only Sam gets caught, but he bonds with the conservative judge and they wind on sharing a Scotch.
You inexplicably win tickets to a Green Day concert and wind up meeting the band.
They go on a heist with us and become the latest stealing celebrities.
You inherit a haunted castle by the ocean and we all stay there, fighting specters and ghouls.
(I know that was longer than a day, but I’m tired and I just kept going . . .)

10 Villainous character actor: That ‘70's Show’s Mila Kunis (Jackie). Or, as she is known to me and Sam, that crazy bitch from American Psycho 2. She’s a sweet, trill-voiced, dark-haired beauty who slaughters rivals with grace and ruthlessness. Sam could star in William Shatner’s role as her mentor whom she murders. C’mon, like you never contemplated pushing Sam out a window when he was drunk and high on pills.


Well, I hope I did you some justice, there, Beckenstein. If not, you have my permission to kick the crap out of my face.


Tune in next time, loyal readers, for Andrew's triumphant appearance in The Interim Adventure.
(Also, I nearly get killed, Sam and Tony blow up a building, and Tony gets a new vehicle)
All this and more in the stunning conclusion!


Current Mood: My head hurts and I am falling asleep at the wheel.
Current Music: New Buffalo