Totally Headless Hermione

This picture is symbolic of the bordering-on-bizarre scenarios I encounter on a nearly daily basis whilst living with young children: Sunday morning, early. Dining room table. Newspaper, Valentine carnation, Duck tape, pillar candle, headless action figure. And not just any action figure, but the brilliant, lovely Hermione Granger, dear friend of Harry Potter, who is dear indeed in the Waters household.

Will and I, like lots of Christian parents, were wary of the HP series when our then-8-year-old daughter Vi expressed interest in the books. We were fine with the fantasy concept; it was the witchcraft and wizardry we wanted to keep out of our children's hearts and minds. But when a trusted English professor at a nearby Christian college told me she included and enjoyed the Sorceror's Stone in her Children's Lit class, I decided to embark on a "campus visit" to Hogwarts (Harry's school) and investigate the possibility of enrollment in the worldwide HP Fan Club. (I was only about 10 years behind the times!)

From the moment I stepped my proverbial foot onto Platform 9¾, I could not stop the reading train! Vi and I began the books out loud together in July 2007—although, I confess, in hushed tones: We started the series while at Christian Family Camp, and I semi-seriously suspected that a camp official, out walking the grounds one evening, might overhear our HP recitation, rap on our cabin door, and confiscate the "objectionable" literature. But no such knock disturbed us. In fact, over the next few months, we deemed very little important enough to interrupt our intense interest in the outcome of J.K. Rowling's epic tale.

The "witchcraft" and "wizardry" were not the sort I originally feared. Midway through the adventure, I discovered John Granger, a like-minded believer well-qualified to articulate my own inklings: that Rowling's work is rife with Christian symbolism and offers many meaningful lessons for readers of faith to apply to their own lives—lessons of loyalty, friendship, self-sacrifice, perseverance, and, above all, love. (Someone we know, Travis Prinzi, shares his impressions as a Christian convert to the HP series in his recently released book, Harry Potter & Imagination: The Way Between Two Worlds.) I realize and respect that not all HP fans share this view. However, the influence of Harry Potter on my family and me has been so intimate, important, and decidedly religious that I can't imagine experiencing HP in any other light. (Kind of like I don't understand how anyone can watch the movies and follow the storylines without having first read the books. I know that plenty of people do it, but I prefer my way.)

Will says I should come up with some clever manner of tying up these thoughts, connecting the odd assortment of items from the picture with my "Surprised By Harry" reflections. However, I maintain that the unexpected parts of life, like finding weird stuff around the house or finding oneself in a formerly feared fictional character, are anything but tidy. I'm leaving it at that.

Card Clutter

Originally Posted by Will Waters Feb. 8, 2009 @ lifeinatown.wordpress.com

I grew up collecting boxes and boxes of baseball, football and basketball cards. Initially it was for fun, but later in my teen years I started to view them as “investments.” That’s about the time, in the early 1990s, when the card companies flooded the market and the card industry hit the crapper.

Many of the stars of that era—Dwight Gooden, Don Mattingly, Jose Canseco, Darryl Strawberry and Mark McGwire—also fizzled with injuries, drug problems and off-field troubles. Their card values plummeted like Kodak stock.

But it was a good era for football with guys like Dan Marino and John Elway. Basketball also was golden with Michael Jordan, Charles Barkley, Magic Johnson and Larry Bird.

As I moved around, venturing off to college and changing addresses several times with my mother, I kept the really good cards close by. I even sold a few in a pinch at college. When it was time for the winter formal dance my freshman year, and I was short on cash, I sold a couple Barry Sanders and Troy Aikman rookie cards. I think I got $100 for the lot. That paid for my tickets, a new tie and flowers for my date.

I was content to leave most of the cards in my old bedroom at my father’s house. Last year he began cleaning out the house preparing to move into a smaller one. Each trip home I returned with three or four boxes of cards. After a year, the cards started piling up and they’ve overtaken an entire bedroom in our house.

I’d sell some of these, but they’re not worth that much. They’re not worthless either, so I don’t want to give them away. I also don’t want to take the time to hunt down buyers. With online auctions, you should have these things professionally graded because the difference in value between “good” condition and “very good” is about double the price of the card. I don’t want to shell out money getting a card appraised and its condition graded when the sale price may not cover those costs.

So I’ve just let the cards sit on shelves, in the corner on the floor, on top of desks and tables. My wife says they should go. I agree. I don’t feel much emotional attachment to them. I keep hoping someone will show up, hand me two grand, and take the lot.

Anyone interested? lifeinatown@gmail.com