The Face that Launched a Thousand NASCARS

Evidence: My dear friend Mindy turned 33 yesterday. This is a photo of her in the birthday way:



I'm a little misty...a little steel-magnolia-y...looking at that picture. Look at her face. Look at that smile, the confidence, the determination, the presence, presence, presence. That is a woman after my own heart. In fact, that is a woman whose heart is twice as big as mine and whose sense of self is even bigger. You know the pride you sometimes feel even though you had nothing to do with how the person turned out? You have a friend, they are someone truly special, and you have a moment when you look at them and you are awed and humbled by what you see...and you can't help but be proud of them. I feel that looking at this picture. That girl is someone; and she's my friend.

So here's a story about Mindy:

Mindy had a crush on my brother. We were 15, my brother was 22 or 23 and cool as the day was long. He liked books, music and movies...interests hard to come by in small town Alabama. He had also vouched for us to my mother that it was ok for us to hang out on Southside in Birmingham (that was where all the cool, arty people hung out drinking coffee and writing poetry). So he was a hero.

One Halloween, Chuck drove Mindy and I down to Southside to catch all the counter-culture shenanigans (my mom wasn't going to let us go alone as it was a dangerous night of the year). So we were hanging out, walking and talking, having a grand old time. And as we were walking on the sidewalk in front of the Highlands Baptist Church, we approached a short flight of concrete steps. We took one step and

—

now let me interrupt here for one moment to explain that my friend Mindy has a high center of gravity and tiny feet which makes her prone to falling at inappropriate times as well as times when it might somehow be appropriate but I don't know what those times would be

—

Mindy fell.

She fell forward.

She fell forward, head first down the steps. I wanted to stop this but I couldn't. Gravity was being a bitch that day and it was no one's friend.

Now...when Mindy landed on the sidewalk at the base of the steps, her skirt was unfortunately positioned. Her underwear was also unfortunately colored. Long story short, my best friend was prone on the ground wearing all black except for unmentionables and her black skirt was nearer to her head than her bottom.

NOW...

Here's what happened. Before picking her up. Before seeing if she was ok. Before tending to her knee that was DRIPPING WITH BLOOD. My brother, saint that he is, pulled her skirt down first. Then he helped her to her feet.

And then the most remarkable thing ever happened.

It was a Halloween miracle.

Mindy, who had been in the middle of an exciting, extravagant story before she fell, rose to her feet and without missing a beat continued with the story. She was bleeding from the knee, the man she had a crush on and just seen her tighty-whities, and she continued with her tale as though none of it ever happened.

This woman is an American hero.

Before I leave you, I must reveal a similarly embarrassing thing about myself in the interest of equal time. At my brother Chris' wedding, I got a hair up my ass to catch the bridal bouquet. I leaped into the air when his wife threw it and not only did I not catch it, I fell and landed on the 12 year old girl who did catch it.

Class. You can't spell Carol Hartsell without CLASS. Or at least CLAS.

All I really wanted to say is...the face in that picture makes me feel like I'm home. And if you can have one or two of those people in your life, you've done pretty well. But if that smile also says something to you about how you want to live your life...well, sir, you better buy that girl a whiskey sour next time you see her pretty face.

Love you, Mindy Lou.

xoxo,
Carol