As I write, Jason, is happily absorbed in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, the last book in the series. We’ve eagerly anticipated it just as we anticipated every one since Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. The tradition has been that he reads it first then I read it. As much as he wants to discuss the story with me, he waits until I’m done.
I wish others would be as considerate. Jason had to sign off of instant messenger earlier today when a "well-meaning" friend started telling him the ending even though Jason said he was half-way through the book. I don’t understand that. What satisfaction do some people get in taking away the joy of finding out for oneself what eventually happens to Harry, Ron, Hermoine and even Voldemort?
When The Sixth Sense came out, I was very much looking forward to watching it. That is until Opie and Anthony, who were local radio DJ’s at the time, thought it would be hilarious to have their interns drive by the lines of people waiting outside the theaters to see the movie and shout out that Bruce Willis’ character was dead all along. I still thought it was a great movie when I eventually saw it on DVD (or was it VHS? I forget) but I was robbed of the element of surprise when the twist was revealed.
So please don’t think me rude if I tune you out should you want to tell me how Harry Potter ends. I want to enjoy a good thing.
Fatty Rants & Raves (aka Rising from the Ashes) 