We've never met, but we share the exact same birthday: month, day, and year. You're a wee bit more famous than I am, and "wee" is a severe understatement. Pretty much everyone on the planet hears your name about once a year, on July 25, when news organizations do stories and updates on the anniversary of the birth of the world's first test tube baby (That's you.) Most people don't really notice, I suppose, but I've heard your name my entire life. You're in crossword puzzles and in clues on Jeopardy!, and my mom always brings up your name up on my birthday.
Last year, when we turned 30 and there were news stories galore (about you, not about me), I started to write you a song. It was called "Dear Louise," and was really my own musings about what you are doing. I might finish that song someday, but for now, I thought I'd settle for a letter.
Really, I'm just curious about you, for no other reason than you are ALWAYS a topic of conversation at my birthday parties. Isn't that weird for you? I mean, you didn't do anything to deserve a bunch of folks in Kentucky talking about "the test tube baby." You were just born. Amazingly enough, surely, but it's got to be sort of like being told one day that you're "the girl who lived" (dorky Harry Potter reference, I know). Do people ever stop you on the streets? Can you go out to dinner with your family in peace without the paparazzi snapping photos? What does YOUR family talk about on YOUR birthday? Surely they don't talk about me ...
Can we meet up and have a cup o' tea the next time I'm touring over in England? There's a chance I'll be back in Manchester this fall, and I'd like to meet you. I've never met anyone with my exact birthday before.
Anyway, I'm sort of hoping that you're the type of person who has her name set up on a "Google Alert" search. You'll find my blog and this letter, and you'll send me an email (email@example.com), and we'll have a good chuckle over this. I'll plan that Fall UK tour, and I'll buy you a tea or a pint.
Sorry that a few thousand other people read this letter first. I didn't want to be totally creepy and search for you on Facebook.