Eschewing Pottermania
I've never read a Harry Potter book, although I'm told they're quite good and well-written.
I have seen a few scenes out of one of the movies, although I can't remember which one it was. It just happened to be the only thing worth watching on late-night TV.
Harry Potter books, I suppose, are the Led Zeppelin of literature. True fans just can't seem to get enough of the little wizard. They stood in line for hours to get the book at 12:01 a.m. Saturday.
It's kind of silly, but I suppose it makes more sense than those booger-eating morons who camp outside a Krispy Kreme that's about to open its doors for the first time.
I've been tempted to read the Potter book series, but I don't read many books, and when I do, I tend to shoot for history, like stuff on World War II, the Civil War and, most recently, The Beatles. My wife will probably be glad when my Beatlemania phase passes, but it might be awhile, because the Beatles are kind of overwhelming.
This morning, another Pearson Family Adventure resulted in me putting my hands on a Potter book for the first time.
To make a short story long, my car battery died. The timing really sucked, too, because I had just strapped in the kids to take them off to Vacation Bible School, for which my wife is working this week. She has to go in early, so I volunteered to drop off the kids later so they wouldn't be all up in her business.
But after getting the kids fed, watered, pottied and strapped in, I was horrified to discover that the car wouldn't start. Having spent thousands of dollars on various home and vehicle repairs the past year or so, I just don't have the stomach for this kind of thing right now.
Luckily, the handy neighbor happened to be home and got my car started, but only after the wife had to rush home to get the kids and take them to VBS.
I drove straight to the Wal Mart, where I was told it would take about an hour to change out the battering, giving me time to wander aimlessly around the store. It was there that I wandered upon the stack of Potter books.
The big mystery surrounding this book - the last in the series - was whether the author decided to kill off protagonist.
So I picked up the book, turned to the last page and read the last couple of sentences, which solved the Potter death mystery.
And that's probably about all the Potter that I'll ever read.
I have seen a few scenes out of one of the movies, although I can't remember which one it was. It just happened to be the only thing worth watching on late-night TV.
Harry Potter books, I suppose, are the Led Zeppelin of literature. True fans just can't seem to get enough of the little wizard. They stood in line for hours to get the book at 12:01 a.m. Saturday.
It's kind of silly, but I suppose it makes more sense than those booger-eating morons who camp outside a Krispy Kreme that's about to open its doors for the first time.
I've been tempted to read the Potter book series, but I don't read many books, and when I do, I tend to shoot for history, like stuff on World War II, the Civil War and, most recently, The Beatles. My wife will probably be glad when my Beatlemania phase passes, but it might be awhile, because the Beatles are kind of overwhelming.
This morning, another Pearson Family Adventure resulted in me putting my hands on a Potter book for the first time.
To make a short story long, my car battery died. The timing really sucked, too, because I had just strapped in the kids to take them off to Vacation Bible School, for which my wife is working this week. She has to go in early, so I volunteered to drop off the kids later so they wouldn't be all up in her business.
But after getting the kids fed, watered, pottied and strapped in, I was horrified to discover that the car wouldn't start. Having spent thousands of dollars on various home and vehicle repairs the past year or so, I just don't have the stomach for this kind of thing right now.
Luckily, the handy neighbor happened to be home and got my car started, but only after the wife had to rush home to get the kids and take them to VBS.
I drove straight to the Wal Mart, where I was told it would take about an hour to change out the battering, giving me time to wander aimlessly around the store. It was there that I wandered upon the stack of Potter books.
The big mystery surrounding this book - the last in the series - was whether the author decided to kill off protagonist.
So I picked up the book, turned to the last page and read the last couple of sentences, which solved the Potter death mystery.
And that's probably about all the Potter that I'll ever read.
posted by Brian Pearson at 1:44 PM
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