"'I know bookstores are supposed to be good things, but we don’t have video stores anymore, and maybe we need to get used to the new order instead of lamenting the old.' This is what I’d say to his point: it totally sucks that there’s no more video stores. I spent long nights hanging out at Kim’s in college, deliberating for hours over which random German film from the nineteen-seventies to take home with me. I actually watched stuff like that all the way through then, maybe since I’d spent so much time and energy looking for it. I even miss Blockbuster: when I was a kid, the Friday-night trip to the video store to pick out a movie was the most exciting event of the week. How I watch a video now is: I browse on Netflix for a while, start watching something, get about five minutes in, wonder if I’ve made the right decision, and start the process over. It’s ridiculous, and yet I can’t…stop…clicking…
My point is that I wish we had been able to save the video store. I know the young citizens of the new order don’t miss it, but kids don’t miss anything: they’re kids. And since we haven’t entirely killed the bookstore yet, I would like us not to. Going into bookstores to browse, to attend readings, to interact with the staff, to see the selection they’ve curated—all these things excite me and entice me to read. If my book-buying experience becomes simply me sitting alone on the couch click, click, clicking, I don’t know what I’ll become…"
Author’s Note: I wrote this back in July while I was waiting for the midnight viewing of ‘Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 to start.’ In terms of Internet time, this is way dated. Like, pretty much irrelevant. But it’s been sitting in my phone for way too long and it’s about time that I’ve finally got around to publishing it. Enjoy.
There’s one more hour to go before the beginning of the end of the Harry Potter film series. I’m sitting in the theater listening to all of the people who are arguing about where to sit and complaining that they should have gotten here earlier. They probably should have, the theater is nearly full already. That’s not surprising in the least.
A family sitting a few rows ahead of me brought wands with them to the theater. They are all waving them above their heads. People dressed in long black robes keep rushing past me. Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. Right now, more than ever, I’m regretting not having purchased that ridiculously overpriced, $119 Gryffindor robe at The Wizarding World of Harry Potter while I had the chance. I would feel so much more festive if I had that robe right now, but also a $119 poorer. OK, yeah, my $40 Gryffindor sweatshirt is just as good.
I’m thinking back to the first time that I read a Harry Potter book. Someone, I suspect a family member of mine, bought me a copy of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets as a gift. To whichever family member that was, thank you for introducing me to Harry and his friends.
I remember reading the book and I remember liking it, but I did not fall in love right away. I must have been too preoccupied in pretending to be too cool to admit that I liked to read. It would not be until a few more years down the road that I became fully enchanted by J.K. Rowling’s charmingly crafted, magical wizarding world. At a certain point during my childhood, my dad advised me not to read any more of the Harry Potter books. He was under the impression that the story’s association with witchcraft and wizardry made it unsuitable for young, impressionable children and was concerned that I would be lured into a world of evil. I read the books anyway. Now, after having undergone a long lecture about the true essence of the Harry Potter books, he understands that the Harry Potter series is just about as far from “evil” as anything can get.
It’s undoubtedly sad that the series as an entity on the silver screen is coming to an end. However, what makes it a little less so, is the way that I can see that the story of Harry Potter will live on for many years to come, long after this film comes to an end.
The screen in the theater just turned on. The final chapter of the story as represented by Dan, Emma, Rupert, and friends is about to begin and I’m feeling sure that I will remember this moment in time just as vividly as I remember the first time I watched Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. Although after tonight there will be no more new films or books to look forward to, I know there will never be a time where I won’t look forward to revisiting Harry’s world, both on the screen and within the pages.
by The Eagles
Eagles | Hotel California
You know how some young people are so adamant about letting you know that they started listening to classic rock on their own because they are cooler than cool, the coolest of the cool? These kind of people will forever deny that their parent’s musical taste ever had any influence on them. Okay well, I am not one of those people. Damn straight my parents influenced my musical preference. I didn’t know it at the time because honestly, what seven-year-old is going to agree to listen to an album of their parent’s choosing over their beloved Britney Spears or Spice Girls? Certainly not me. Of course I whined through the entire car ride, begging my parents to shut off the preposterous sounds they claimed as “music.” Luckily they just ignored me and kept on listening to The Eagles and Van Morrison and Grateful Dead, all the while subconsciously conditioning me to fall in love with said music when I grew up.
Anyway, Hotel California is one of the songs I can very distinctly remember listening to as a child with my parents. I remember listening to it in the car or on the stereo at home dozens of times and secretly liking it, even at a young age. However, it took a lot of growing up for me to finally admit my love for The Eagles and a lot of other classic rock. But one thing I know is that I will never discredit my parents for inadvertently turning me on to a lot of kick-ass music.