Editor’s Note – This was originally published back in June 2003 when the Half-Blood Prince dropped. I decided to dust it off and update it for a new generation. Plus, this was published on a different Blog so technially, this is the first time this post is printed at The Ed Zone.
Now that summer is upon us – and how could one miss it with all the 48 degree beach days we’ve enjoyed here in the Northeast of late – my television viewing habits have diminished slightly. Oh sure, I never miss my daily fix of Backyardigans or Scott Baio is 45… and Single (the latter strictly viewed for “the wife”) – but with the summer doldrums sending the 24 scribes straight to the hash bars in hopes of dreaming up some more hooka-induced hokum for Jack Bauer, I am left with only the evening news as my sole fix of dependable entertainment.
And what could be funnier than tuning in last night to spy flocks of mindless sheep corralled in line in hopes of buying a book at the stroke of midnight… THREE DAYS FROM NOW!!! (unless of course you live in England and witnessed the same scene on your telly – in which case, kindly swap the ‘flocks’ for ‘throngs’ and the ‘line’ for ‘queue’ but add ‘bloody’ to the whole ‘mindless sheep’ thing).
For those that have missed out, I offer a sample chronology of what to expect should you find yourself in line for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows this Friday evening:
9:00 p.m. Line/Queue up
10:00 p.m. Ask friend to hold spot in line/queue while you make a quick trip to the ATM. For geek comedy sake, tell him ya’ gotta go ogle the family jewels at Gringotts – he’ll laugh but just when you get out of earshot I’ll show up and punch you in said jewels, funny boy.
11:30 p.m. Store Owner arrives wearing wizard hat. Begins to intone in faux-British accent something along the lines of “In a few moments, the scores of lucky Muggles that I see before me, will become reacquainted with a magical world.” You groan and whisper to your friend “Hey, I wish someone would cast the Cone of Silence on Dumble-Bore.” You both snicker.
11:35 p.m. My fist pummeling your Sorcerer’s Stones (so named because it is sheer wizardry you even possess ‘em.)
12:00 a.m. Store opens. You wait in line for a couple more hours to buy book. While making your way past the periodicals, you begin flipping through FHM and contemplate a ribald reference to your own Order of the Phoenix rising. You catch me shaking my fist. You wisely pick up a copy of Starlog and begin debating who is the greatest synthespian: Gollum, Optimus Prime or Lindsay Lohan?
2:00 a.m. Arrive home. Gaze longingly at the novel and begin to ponder what secrets it may hold. Will Harry finally plunder Hermione’s chamber of secrets?
2:05 a.m. Fall into restless slumber with the nagging, knowing realization that you probably could have gone out Saturday morning and bought a copy and some Hostess Don-ettes at your local Mobil Mart.
See, that’s the trouble with Harry.