July 15th, 2011

I am a Harry Potter fan. 

The first legit house-sorting quiz I took placed me in Slytherin. My then teenage heart would not accept it. So I tried to cheat my way into Gryffindor, but it put me into the annoyingly clever house of Ravenclaw. I took the quiz a few more times altering my responses like only-an-ambitious-Slytherin student would to finally get into the house where the brave of heart enter- Gryffindor. I bought a Gryffindor banner, crocheted a Gryffindor scarf, and ventured to the University of Minnesota where one pro (to the many pros) were the maroon and gold colors of the school. However, I was never one to refute my initial placement. Over the years, a Slytherin scarf, Bellatrix costume, and Green Bay Packers tie turned Slytherin would enter my HP medley of things. Hufflepuff house rarely crossed my mind until one day I referred to a few of my Microbiology students as Hufflepuff’s. [It was a compliment! They were the last ones to complete their lab work because they were hard-working, patient people who made me laugh. Easily my favorites.] I realized then, that the house values I embodied most were that of dear Hufflepuff! After two years of graduate school, the words of the sorting hat rang true in my heart.

“You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true,

And unafraid of toil”

What better virtues were there to attain? If one could master these, then the defining values of the other houses would surely follow! So why am I sharing this dated epiphany? Well, it is to simply establish my leading sentence to this post- I am a fan of all things Harry Potter-ish...

Which leads me to share a fanatical idea formed this Memorial Day weekend.

First off, some background info on the HP fandom. The mood of many Harry Potter fans is fluctuating like never before. For the most part, excitement chokes the above average fan to utter indistinguishable grunts when she (or he) watches the cast describe HP in one word. Another group of fans may periodically become wistful. Altogether, it is agreed upon in HP circles that to think about this final movie is bittersweet. It is the ending of a phenomenal saga. It is the end of our Peter Pan-like adventures. With the ending of this spectacular story in book and film, we are ending our trips to Neverland. What adventures lay beyond? Fortunately, my love of reading extends beyond HP. I have other interests and a career to keep me mind occupied. But what of the young 20-somethings that write so much more dramatically than I? (example to follow)

Last Thursday, while routinely visiting the website www.mugglenet.com, I stumbled across fan comments regarding the upcoming movie. One girl wrote, “I am going to the midnight showing with my best friend. We are going to stand and raise our wands as the credits roll.” I smiled and exclaimed to no one but myself, “These are the type of people I need to be watching the movie with!” There is no greater sign of respect that a wizard can offer than to stand and raise their wand for someone/something great. It happened at Dumbledore’s death. Why not for the HP movie finale? Thus the inception of my imaginary “chart of HP fealty” was formed.

An inadequate description to my “chart of HP fealty”

In years past, I have organized large HP movie mid-night gatherings. These were never meant to be events that required I coordinate with 16+ people, but the Hermione/Gryffindor in me roared to life lest a future fan was denied the opportunity to become one. So with an enthusiasm that rivals that of dear Dedalus Diggle, I utilized the adept skills of a Ravenclaw student to match HP outfits, meeting times, movie locations, stand-by lists, etc... It was a hoot and half for me and probably more so for others who observed my antics. This year, I would like the caliber of the group to be quite high. This movie is special. I think it will be worthy enough for a bunch of muggles to raise their non-magical wands as the credits roll. I’m entertaining the thought that this year people must prove they have an interest. I do not want to laugh, cry, gasp, and raise my wand alone in the wee hours of July 15^th.

So how will one prove he/she has an interest? Easy peezy. One must have more than 3 check marks to this never-ending list... or until I say so...

• o    Must have read books 1-7.
• o   Can display their knowledge in a friendly game of wizard duel as played by the mugglecast hosts
• o    Has listened to at least one mugglecast episode
• o   Brownie points to those who know the hosts names
• o    Prepared a meal/food mentioned in the HP books (I have an unofficial HP cookbook)
• o   Brownie points to those who bring it to an HP dinner party (it’s in the works)
• o    Loves Severus Snape/Alan Rickman
• o   Obtained a picture of oneself smiling at Platform 9 ¾
• o    Acquired a wand
• o   Again, extra points if you fashioned it yourself or are willing to make more
• o   Presented oneself at prior mid-night showings of HP or mid-night releases of the books
• o  ...extra points if you have dressed up!
• o   Choreographed a dance routine to an HP song
• o   Or have played the HP theme in a concert or had it as a ring-tone
• o   HP-related password
• o   Registered for PotterCon 2012
• o   Enthusiasm that rivals Dedalus Diggle

This list is exhaustive. I have not done all of them (80%) and there are many more things not included that I have done in the name of Harry Potter. What I love most about fellow Harry Potter fans are the diverse ways they have incorporated aspects of the book into their lives. This is why I can truly state what I once denied- I am a Harry Potter fan. 

I can be a cookie winner.

The wheels are turning...  highlights from the past two weeks-

o I will buy a camera if only to take a picture of my treasured work- a mowed lawn. This breakthrough deserves an explanation, even though I think it should be fairly obvious. Fresh cut green grass is my kryptonite. Hermione should have received 10 points to Gryffindor for detecting that scent in the Amortentia love potion brewed by Slughorn. Not only do I take pleasure in the scent, but I also relish in the effort to obtain it. That is-- I love to mow the lawn and I love mowed lawns. Sunday was a gorgeous day. The weather begged me to work outside. Thus, I awoke the beast of a lawn mower to keep me occupied. I denied my neighbors the amusement of past years when my struggles to turn it on could have been made into a clown show . Shoveling the snow has made me a brute force of nature this winter. It took me less than three attempts to start the mower. I mowed half the yard and beheld its beautiful transformation. All the while these happy thoughts were being formed. I smile every time I venture outside and see the lawn. This has led to the desire to obtain a camera. I have on multiple occasions expressed no desire to utilize a camera. This is a rare exception to that sentiment. I want my mom and dad and brothers and sister and cousins and aunts and friends to see my handiwork. I doubt they will be filled with as much love that Hermione and I share regarding grass. Truth be told, extended family will probably be a little bemused at my interest in lawn mowing, but I can't fight the feeling when it comes to the scent of fresh cut grass. Lastly, the length of this paragraph correlates with my love for mowed lawns.

o Kitchen refrigerator contents are revealing. What do yours say about you? The same day that I wished I had a camera to capture the better half of the lawn, I also had the pleasure of contributing my last flour tortilla to a superbly healthy dinner prepared by the creative genius known as Ben Shinozaki. I will not attempt to describe the dish except to write it was delish. To complete his creation, he inquired if my roommate or myself had any tortillas. I had one. My roommate supplemented the rest. This led me to wonder about the food content in the refrigerator and what it reveals about the owners. My roommates and myself have divvied the refrigerator into three sections for our personal use. One-third of this space has never been fully stocked. The other-third is randomly stocked at varied intervals of time. The last third is always full of exotic looking food. Guess which third belongs to me? Ben, to his credit, did not judge my scant food supply, but it made me think... and I’m still thinking about what it says about me... so far it is favorable. (So why take a picture of an empty refrigerator? Obviously to send to my parents and sister so they can send me more care packages. That’s all.)

o Monkey bars in the lab are only the beginning... For more than two weeks, I have been itching to tire my arms. I want my hands to be calloused and my arms to be sore from all that hanging and swinging. Since I spend many hours in the lab, I have imagined a few ways that a jungle gym could be incorporated into the lab milieu.

o I need a transmogrifier to duplicate myself when I perform death assays on 60+ samples. I have lost count how many times I have wished for one. In the past month alone, it has been vocalized at least 4 times. Unfortunately, there is nary a soul that knows what I am talking about.

o To the science nerds out there with an awareness of Native peoples, may I offer one suggestion for a name change: wild type Americans. Ha ha ha ha. Wild type is the control in any experiment. It is the original while all other conditions are deviant from that population. Ha ha ha. Whew. I was not clever enough to be the first to suggest it. That honor goes to a witty bioengineer who was patient enough to listen to my rants about the politically correct way to describe indigenous American populations. I think this may be funny to only scientists because my primary audience (e.g. family) did not laugh as much as I did.

o In the multiverse lives of 1sheepherder and therogueNavajo, it was this universe that they dueled... and I am not referring to wizard duel for once. This is a clash between two avid readers of The Navajo Times. It is a humorous saga to at least one person (in my primary audience). To the two participants, it possibly serves as a platform for one to establish her monarchy and crown herself queen.

o Kit Wickel knows something about me that no one else knows, except those faceless people who process fees... and I will keep it that way. It does not go down until 2012 anyway.

o I love wise old men.

I am well aware that there are Dumbledore haters. I have heard your reasons and I refute them. Sort of kidding, I am not that blinkered. Yes, Dumbledore was very calculating in how he positioned the people that would defeat Voldemort, but he had to be! Let me just share briefly what I love about Dumbledore. He is fascinating because he is not oblivious to the power of emotion, whether it be from a house-elf or half-giant. He is naturally gifted as a wizard, but that does not preclude him from disciplining himself in other aspects of human development. He is a man who seeks after the good things of life. One of my favorite quotes from him is “Youth cannot know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young...”

Uncle Iroh. What a chap! I love this cartoon character. Who did NOT cheer in season 3 in the episode “The Day of Black Sun Part 2: The Eclipse” when Iroh escapes? Who did NOT cry in season 2 in the episode “The Tales of Ba Sing Se”? Who did this funny old man NOT charm in season 1? Who? WHO? We have nothing to talk about if anyone comes forth in the affirmative.

Chingachgook. Wow. He is such a grand ‘old man’. I shouldn’t even categorize him as one since he was able to finish off Magua in less than a minute after running up an 89-degree canyon in just a few minutes. However by that logic, Uncle Iroh and Dumbledore also become disqualified as old men. In my youth, I watched The Last of the Mohicans with my family and vowed that I would condition myself to be like Chigachgook when I became a white-haired old woman. He does not say much in the movie or book, but when he does speak it pierces the heart. In the closing scene of the movie he tells his adopted son Hawkeye, "The frontier moves with the sun and pushes the Red Man of these wilderness forests in front of it until one day there will be nowhere left. Then our race will be no more, or be not us."

Conclusion: I love wise old men... who are smart, witty, and spry. (Although the ones described above are fictional, my grandpa trumps them all. My pops will be happy to know that he is not in the “old man” category just yet.)