M is for...

Mauve Marauder.

Who is he?  What does he want?  Will we ever know!?

Let's find out.

In high school our cafeteria was filled with the stereotypical plastic chair-

There was a rainbow of colors, ranging from red to blue with some brown and black thrown in.  And then there was The Chair.  This chair was unlike all the other chairs in the cafeteria (which was large by the way).  It was the only chair of it's color.  Well, one day this chair just so happened to be at our table.  And so our discussion turned to it's magnificent color.  Except, we couldn't decide on the color.  Some said it was purple, but that clearly wasn't it since there were red tones to it.  Some said it was more brown.  But we finally, for the most part, decided that it was mauve.  And when I say we, I mean myself and my friend Emily.  Sarah, however, was having none of it.  She declared the chair purple.  And from that point on, the argument began.

Was it purple or was it mauve?  Did is even matter?  Absolutely not, but it was school, and we weren't your typical students, so why not argue the point?  We even went so far as to inquire passing teachers as to what color they thought it was.  We scared off more than one by the sheer vehemence with which we were arguing.

This question went on, and on.  For days, weeks, months, years!  It took us almost five years to come to the consensus that the shade of the chair was mauve but it fell under the umbrella of purple.  This decision could clearly have been reached on that first day, but I think it lasted so long out of the sheer joy of yelling at each other.  Sometimes you just really need to yell, but don't want to deal with the consequences.  This was clearly the answer to THAT problem.

Anyways, so this lasted for three years in high school.  It was not a daily occurrence by any means but someone would always bring it up at some point.  In our (I think) senior year we attended a state-wide concert band competition held by MICCA (Massachusetts Instrumental and Choral Conductor's Association) at the nearby Foxboro High School.  As part of this we had an allotted amount of time in a warm-up room.  Upon entering the room I was stunned speechless.  The ENTIRE ROOM was filled with Mauve Marauders.  Say What?!

Is this where our personal Mauve Marauder spawned from?  Did he, in fact, have a family?  Was he abducted and brought to our school?  Did he miss his family?  We never answered any of these questions.  But we didn't really need to.  We knew, in our hearts, that OUR Mauve Marauder was the real deal.  And all those other chairs?  They weren't anywhere near as special.

And after all that, I don't have a single picture of him.  I have to apologize for my lack of foresight.  *Sigh*