I AM NOT HARRY POTTER

The first Harry Potter book was released twenty years ago today. It was a momentous event! But even twenty years ago I was a dreadful old droog kloot, and in consequence I have never read any of the volumes. Harry Potter: James Clavell for kiddiewinkies! My significant other at the time devoured the books, anxiously awaiting each new one, and dragged me to the movies.

We are no longer together, but that's not why.

Even after the movies, the Potter phenomenon did not attract me. But it's so nice that an entire generation for a few shining years read more actual 'text' than 'texting' text.


My generation felt infinitely attracted to multi-volume series if the cover had heaving bosoms, like Frank Herbert's 'Dune' trilogy (five or six books, all overly verbose, downright gibberant), or the twelve volume manual for an inventory and accounting system written in Dinglish (Dutch engineers and programmers massacring their badly remembered English as a technical language which Americans can't read classes).

Heaving bosoms!

I am fairly certain there was not a single heaving bosom in the Harry Potter universe. There was a heaving bosom on the cover of 'Candide' (Voltaire), and I read that. The Song of Songs (which is Solomon's) had a sheer tonne of bosom heaving! It was very exciting!
Detective stories? Sci Fi?
Fairy tales? Fantasy?
Bosoms.

"You're a wizard, Harry. No heaving bosoms for you!"

Even Armistead Maupin's 'Tales of the City' had bosoms. Without even thinking I read most of it. Sort of by accident. It was in the newspaper, in the section I turned to by my fourth coffee refill at Ping Yuen Bakery and Restaurant on Jackson Street in the evening. After pie and crossword puzzles.

That was the day and age when I first became habitually wired to the tits. There are those bosoms again.


Normal people require bosoms. Irrespective of their gender.
Is there in fact even ONE bosom in Harry Potter?
It is a grievous oversight.


Sorry, I was going to say something very meaningful and significant about the Harry Potter books, but I forgot entirely what it was.
I got distracted by the idea of bosoms.

I am a single man. More even than most people, bosoms are meaningful to me. Quite utterly lacking, absent but not forgotten.
Bosoms, Harry, bosoms.


Happy twentieth.




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