Eggs, sausages, nice crispy bacon...we saved some for you, Mister Frodo.

I’m sure it’s not that big of a secret by now that, given the choice of any culture to belong to in Tolkien’s created world, I would without a doubt, with no reservations totally be a Shire folk. I know they’re squatty, unimportant and boring, without any ties to the elven realm over the sea and glowing heroics (except for the two) but they are my favorite by a landslide. And besides, I feel it was one of Tolkien’s greatest soapboxes with his works…that the smallest and least important of creatures can still rattle the course of history.  Kind of how Christ chooses the weak and the ordinary to reach the masses. 1 Corinthians 1:27: But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong.

Well, it’s one thing to tell you where I’d like to reside in middle earth, but it would be a shame to forego telling you all of the reasons I have for wanting to dwell there. Oh and there are a lot. Buckle your little seatbelts, bucco. ( Please don’t think I’m being disrespectful for calling you bucco. I got swept up in the moment)

Number 1:  Living arrangements. Hobbits live practically underground, in “Hobbit Holes.” Therefore underground = much cooler in the summer. Less need for deafening air conditioners and buzzing fans. Peace and quiet coolness underground.  Also… staples of  Hobbit Holes are their circular and brightly colored doors, complete with doorknobs in the center! I mean, hardcore innovation right there! Who says our doorknobs have to be on the right? BOooorring!

Number 2:  (teehee, number 2. Okay, I’m five) A genuine enthusiasm for growing things and growing them everywhere! Hobbits get excited about growing the biggest pumpkin, about mushroom collecting, stealing vegetables, growing flowers… there are no fast food nightmares to contend with, they may be plump but they’re plump on goodness, my friends! Which leads me to…

Number 3:  It is culturally acceptable to eat a lot of food. There are no skinny hobbits, except for when they’ve finished a trek to good ol’ Mt. Doom. I bet Rosie Cotton’s classmates never mocked her for being pudgy. I bet she never looked in the mirror at home and thought…Sam must think I’m a cow. NO! Plump is sexy for Shire folk! Cooking and eating is an art form! Remember the box of seasoning salt that Sam carried with him HALFWAY across the atlas? It was pretty important. AS it should be, I declare!

Number 4: YOU DON’T HAVE TO WEAR SHOES! One summer I tried to develop Hobbit-like callouses on my feet by walking around our gravel driveway until I cried. Okay, I never cried, but I clearly heard my feet cry.  Guess what, no callouses. If I were a hobbit, I could’ve done a jig on that driveway! Plus, another statement for the character of hobbits, they have hairy feet. I mean, like ew. But no one cares! No one’s like, man Sam, shave that forest down. You’re getting’ pipe weed stuck in that mess.

Number 5: Have calloused feet, will travel. Hobbits get to walk everywhere too. No contending with freaks on the highways. No frustrations at a four-way stop. That is unless it’s riddled with Nazgul.

Number 6: Plus, the great thing about Hobbit mindset is that you’re not expected to go anywhere! If you haven’t visited a foreign country, you’re not deemed ignorant…you’re completely respected!  It’s absolutely fine to like where you are and not have to face down the notion that you’re pathetic for wanting to stay there! Man, when you’ve got the Shire, what else do you need?!

Number 7: Well, you don’t need extensive entertainment that’s what. A good story, a corny song that Bilbo taught you…utter enthrallment. Kids don’t need their new-fangled gadgets, a couple long yarns from a short geezer and you’re set to jet. And lastly, but not leastly my favorite…

Number 8: The sense of community. There’s a party tree. Everyone knows each other, whether they’re particularly fond of each other or not (I mean, if you were related to the Sackville-Bagginses you’d probably have some minor frustrations with some aspects of community as well).

Well, I guess that’s it. Just felt like I needed to get that off my chest. No Rivendell for me, Peace out, Lothlorien.  It’s pipe-weed and hairy feet for me.

Which would you choose?

Snape. Snape. Severus Snape.

Wow. Last night the clocks very anti-climactically (is that a word?) landed on 12:00am. It was the fifteenth: the day many nerds had prepared for, ironing their graduation gowns/"magical robes," whittling twigs down to resemble a perfect ash with phoenix core, using their black brown eyeliner to draw lightning bolts on their foreheads, only to regret it later when the acne sets in.

I was not among them. Sadly, but kind of gladly. Sometimes people scare me. But I do intend to go and go soon. Isn't is sad though? Harry Potter is over. No more movies, no more books. Never again will I get to experience a first time read through those books.

I remember when they first came out and I was eleven. We were at Sam's Club, and "The Sorcerer's Stone" was (obviously) dramatically reduced in price. I figured I'd give it a try and I started reading it in the car. I read it all the way home, and somehow managed to make it in the house without taking my eyes off the pages. I remember every time a new one came out and I thought: MAN how am I ever going to finish it? It's thicker than my leg! And yet two days later I was wishing the next one was out.

Now they're over (except that I have yet to see 7.2) and I'm sad. Despite what many christians feel, that the series is blasphemy and deviant filth... Harry Potter is a great story about good vs. evil and sacrificing your life for those you love (sound familiar?) I could go on for miles with an argument FOR Harry Potter, about how its core is congruent with a Christian worldview...but I'm not going to. The horse is dead and doesn't appreciate being beaten. If you really need to talk about it, let me know.

I'm a little afraid to see it though. I get a little emotional about stories and movies...and when I finished the seventh book I fist-pumped and shouted "YAY NEVILLE!" amidst lots of tears. I think it's going to be rough. But it must be done!