The Birth of MEM

Today is the day of birth of three very important people in my life: Harry Potter, JK Rowling, and Madi Mackey. Once, Madi sent JK a birthday card explaining that they had the same birthday, but Scholastic just sent her a form letter back that said Ms. Rowling appreciated it although she had too much mail to answer personally. Or something like that. Ever since she told me that story, I've wanted to send someone fan mail. I haven't done it yet.

Anyway, in honor of Madi's birthday, here is a dream that I had in seventh or eighth grade about her. Usually I forget my dreams right after I wake up, but a few, like this one, stick with me.

The scene is Moore Middle School at after school pick-up time. The horseshoe parking lot by the band hall is packed with minivans, and everywhere middle schoolers are untucking their shirts and milling about. I am walking up the sidewalk, coming from the direction of the convenient store on the corner where all of the intimidating kids would walk after school to buy Gatorade, Lucas, and those chili pepper suckers that were shaped like corn. (Interjection: this in and of itself is odd, because I only walked across the street towards the convenient store once. I was with my carpool because the carpool mom was late that day and we didn't want to sit in the cafeteria like lame-o's until she got there per usual, so we tried the across the street method. Long story short, one of the scariest girls at Moore came up and asked us for money or something, and then we got in trouble by the carpool mom for not being on campus when she came to pick us up.) As I walk up the sidewalk towards the band hall, I hear the sound of tribal drums, and notice Dean-o Spimoni and Travis Farmer (two percussionists in the grade below us who we befriended and sat with at lunch since they had to eat with seventh graders as sixth graders, and we had no other lunch mates to speak of) playing the drums outside by a tree. And standing there, in a lime green, sequined tank top, was Madi - and she was dancing. One of those dances where you bend your elbows and move your shoulders up and down. (Oddities: Seventh Grade Madi did not wear tank tops. Seventh Grade Madi did not wear sequins. Seventh Grade Madi did not do shoulder dances outside the band hall.) Perhaps the oddest thing of all, and the thing that will stick with me forever, was the haircut. Madi had a Taylor McCaslin haircut. Helmet hair. Sort of like Coconut Head from Ned's Declassified School Survival Guide, or Scout from the To Kill A Mockingbird movie with Gregory Peck. (I have violated every rule of internet tact and decorum to bring you a visual, making myself an uber creeper.)

And there you have it. Happy birthday to my dear friend!