It’s like I’m watching my twenties disappear…
To be honest, my twenties disappeared a couple of years ago, but shut up.
I had promised myself I wasn’t going to gush about Harry Potter and how the franchise is ending and whatnot.
And I don’t plan to gush, but as common and unexciting as it is, these books have been a big part of my life.
I didn’t get on the Harry Potter bandwagon right away. As with many things that turn out to be hugely popular, I heard about the books, and when I realized how popular they were becoming, I decided not to like them. I had no clue of the storyline or anything at all, but I wasn’t going to be a part of the drooling masses.
Yeah, that didn’t quite work out.
I think I finally caved in and read the books right about the time Goblet of Fire came out. After that, it was shameless. I waited for each of the next books with equal fervor, and when Deathly Hallows finally arrived, not only did I work a midnight release party (as a bookstore clerk, not a stripper as that sentence kind of makes it sound. Perverts.), but I had the book read by the next afternoon.
The books have been a constant since I caved in and loved them, and now we all love them. They have grown to take up the space of the whole collection. They’ve been shunned for being anti-Jesus. Max took one to school and was told that “Harry isn’t a nice boy.”
It’s anyone’s guess as to why these books – these characters, this story – are so magical (see what I did there?). I don’t know, and pretty much I don’t care. They’re fun. They’re whimsical. Every kid wants to get a Hogwarts letter. I wanted a Hogwarts letter when I read about them, and I hadn’t been 11 for over a decade.
As much as I generally don’t like movies made from books I love, the movies have been great. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and everyone else have finally gotten consistent faces in my mind’s eye – and that’s really rare.
Tonight at midnight everyone will be lining up to see the last movie, just like I did for the last however many.
But not me. Not this time.
I’ll tell people it’s because I don’t want to burden anyone with Lucy, my needy bedhog, in the middle of the night, and that’s true.
The fact of the matter is that this is it. It all ends.
And even though I know what happens and it’s just a movie, I kind of feel like I’m saying goodbye to friends.
Isn’t that crazy? I mean, I can watch the movies and reread the books every year like I have for the past eight years, and I can read whatever else J.K. Rowling eventually puts out, knowing it won’t be as good. Even if it is.
I guess it’s just how it goes. The end of an era. I’ll look back on these stories like they’re my generation’s Star Wars.
So while I am anxious to see the movie, I’m okay with not racing to be first in line. I’m not quite ready to say goodbye.
If you go see the new Harry Potter and you see a woman weeping in the aisle when you’re leaving, that’s me. Just walk on by.