Wednesday, July 25, 2007

Not Obssessed

I visited a Barnes and Noble with my sister and bro-in-law this evening and couldn't resist picking up the new Harry Potter and reading the first few pages.

I should say that I pre-ordered it and that it awaits my return home. If I had planned ahead, I probably could have had it sent to my sister's house so I could read it while visiting them--thus not falling prey to the spoilers out there who are determined to tell everyone how it ends. Frankly, there are only three possible outcomes for Harry: he lives, he dies, or he limps. And, as anyone who has read the books knows, there is heavy foreshadowing as to what that ending will be. As I told one of my ex-students who tried to spoil the ending, it really isn't how it ends, but the journey that takes us there. Otherwise, why would so many people have read book six, already knowing what happens to Dumbledorf? For that matter, how long has the Lord of the Rings been around and still the latest movie adaptations made millions upon millions?

Hell Agatha Christy and Arthur Conan Doyle are still big sellers.

But back to my story. I should have known that by standing next to the Harry Potter display and just opening the book, I was inviting trouble. But there I was, reading the first few pages, when I hear a voice behind me saying "That's the idea. Come to Barnes and Noble and read it for free."

The voice was not familiar to me. I turned t face the speaker: a man not too much younger than me, unshaven, bespectacled, balding, carrying a Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows canvas tote bag.

I knew this guy wanted to discuss the ending in the worst way, so I turned from him and said, "I don't get what you people see in this crap," and walked away, heading up the escalator the 2nd floor.

I might have hurt his feelings, but that canvas tote bag assured me that I needed to get away.

Sure enough, I noticed later that he had pounced on another victim. His voice was pretty loud, s I could hear that he was still talking abut Harry Potter, although I couldn't hear all of the particulars.

I may not be successful in isolating myself from all the spoilers, but I am determined to just not know until I've read it myself.

Sunday, July 22, 2007

High and the Mighty

So my flight to Philly ended with me landing.

As I walked through the metal detector, I kept setting it off. The third time, the lady in charge called for a specialist to come wand me as I tried to figure out what about me kept the thing buzzing. I realized that one culprit was my medical alert pendant that I wear to alert any emergency guys of my diabetes so they don't pump me full of candy should they find me unconscious. I pointed this out to the lady calling the wand guy, but she made me wait for the wand guy anyway.

He asked me if my hat had any metal in it. I didn't think it did, but sure enough it had a wire running through the rim.

So he wanded me and patted me down. I tried to feel good about these security measures keeping me me safe in the air, but couldn't since I already knew that I wasn't a terrorist. I don't get the feeling that any of these security people are any brighter or more professional than they were ten years ago.