This post is dedicated to my brother’s lovely girlfriend, Kayla, who is already bored and hot on her summer vacation, and asked me to amuse her.
As most of you know, the seventh and final installment of the Harry Potter series is due out June 21. I’ve got my copy pre-ordered to pick up the day it’s release, because it’s impossible to stay un-spoiled with these books. Some idiot always posts on some totally un-Harry Potter-related website who dies, and that just ruins it. I didn’t even read Half-Blood Prince till last January, when the book had been out six months, and there were no surprises because of the stupid internet. Anyway, I digress. Even though I didn’t get on the Harry Potter bandwagon till last year (I thought if so many people liked them, they couldn’t possibly be good; this is true of The Davinci Code.) I am a gigantic fan. I’m on my third time through the series, gearing up for the release. And I’ve decided since the release of the last Harry Potter only happens once in a lifetime, I’m going to go to a midnight release at Barnes and Noble to pick up my reserved copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Then I’ll stay up all night reading in the hope of finishing it before Saturday church. Much coffee will be involved.
Now for the amusing part.
I’ve been dreaming about Deathly Hallows. Not dreams about Harry or anything having to do with the books. Just about getting my hands on Deathly Hallows and trying to read it. But of course, not getting to read it, because in dreams, things just never quite work out.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve had four such dreams. One of them I’ve already forgotten because I barely remembered it right after I had it. In another, I simply purchased the book and opened the cover when I woke up. In the third, Mr. Burt and I had been dragged unwillingly to a movie the day of the book release. It was a movie we didn’t want to see, and anyway, nothing could preclude reading Deathly Hallows. So we each curled up in our chairs in the movie theater and read (we each had our own copy). I’m not really sure how we managed to do this, seeing as movie theaters tend to be dark. And that should have been my clue that I was dreaming, that I was able to read a book in a movie theater. Unfortunately, it’s also very difficult to read in dreams. None of it made any sense or seemed to be about Harry or anyone from the Potter books.
The fourth one, which I had last night, involved a frantic flight from gangsters hell-bent on shooting Mr. Burt and me as we tried to get ahold of our copy of Deathly Hallows. (It’s probably not unlikely; remember how in the original Willy Wonka, someone kidnapped a man with Wonka bars as ransom, and the man’s wife seemed inclined to let the kidnapper murder her husband and hang on to her Wonka bars.) Anyway, the dream. Mr. Burt and I kept getting shot at, and it was a fairly terrifying dream except that the guns never actully had bullets. So, thankfully, there was no blood shed on our precious copy of Deathly Hallows, which, apparently, we did acquire at some point, though the details are fuzzy. It inolved being shot by a man in a gangster hat as we stepped out of the line at Barnes and Noble. But he didn’t get the book from us.
The rather confusing dream that involved so much bullet-less shooting culminated with Mr. Burt and me hiding in a closet, beneath some pillows and blankets. One of the Potter Thieves came in, and we were given away when Dorrie wouldn’t keep still beneath the blankets and we tried to keep her still. He shot us again, and again without bullets.
Though this time, he got Deathly Hallows from me, and before I could get it back, I woke up.
I do hope all of this isn’t some kind of warning that disaster will befall me when it comes time for me to actually pick up my Deathly Hallows.
Speaking of Harry Potter and Willy Wonka, does anyone else agree with me that it looks like they’ve modeled movie!Sirius after the candy man?
Really now. Sometimes I wonder if the people who make the Harry Potter movies have even read the books. Sirius may have been in prison for twelve years, but before that he was the coolest, best looking guy at Hogwarts. I think he’d have had someone in the Order get him some decent clothes. Or at least some wizard clothes. And he’s also supposed to be late thirties.
Though I do think it would be a kind of cool story if Harry and Dudley got Golden Tickets and went to the Chocolate Factory, where Harry met his long-lost godfather, and then the Order of the Phoenix decided to set up headquarters at the Chocolate Factory before deciding to give up on the whole covert soldiering business and just let Voldemort take over the rest of the world. Life in the Chocolate Factory with Sirius Wonka is good.
Except which would be creepier to live with: Oompa Loompas or Dobby, Kreacher, and Winky?
There was one more amusing thing I had to say, but this update’s getting long and rambling, and the other anecdone doesn’t fit the theme. I hope it’ll be okay, Kayla, if I do another post tomorrow. After all, it’ll still be summer and you’ll be hot and bored.
14/05/2007 at 10:43 pm Permalink
Ha, Gene Wilder as Sirius Black. There’s no knowing where we’re going…
What the crap is a gangster hat? Do you mean a “do rag” or just a baseball cap turned sideways?
15/05/2007 at 5:07 am Permalink
Old school gangsters, Greg. Like Al Capone. Fedoras?
Have a good trip to Belize!
19/05/2007 at 6:31 pm Permalink
The trouble with me, of course, is that I would have to limit it to only three.
I want to see you, my Leese.
20/05/2007 at 6:41 am Permalink
I want to see you, too! This week is really bad for me because I’ve got eye appointments and will be running frantic with the vet to try and find out whether Dorrie’s heart murmur really requires an EKG and chest x-rays so that her anesthesia during the spaying operation won’t hurt her…But maybe next? We’ll work something out.
21/05/2007 at 10:01 am Permalink
Okay, Lisa, I am perplexed. Didn’t you tell me that Miss Kayla lived in or near Knoxville when I visited you in March? If so, Kayla…you simply must take advantage of the fact that you live so near my wonderful mountains! (Yes, I have claimed them as my own, even though I am separated from them by a thousand miles or so and only get to visit them once a year). Please, Kayla, go and luxuriate in the splendor of those beautiful hills and rivers for me. I promise it will cure all boredom.