A Whole Magazine of Wizard Rock

From Wizrocklopedia [wizrocklopedia]:

Wizard Rock took over Brown Paper Magazine’s October issue, the second issue of the bi-monthly independent magazine focused on "anything subversive, offensive, silly, edgy, confusing and obscene." Interviews with bands Harry and the Potters, Draco and the Malfoys, The Whomping Willows, The Butterbeer Experience, A Lightning Bolt Scar, The Moaning Myrtles and The Remus Lupins all appear in Issue 2 of BMP, as well as interviews with the dually amazing Harry Potter Alliance and Potterdelphia.

You can download the magazine here by clicking "Save Target As…" or visit their website!

Quite interesting. What I found particularly intriguing was the account of several bands about the very grassroots nature of the Wizard Rock phenomenon, as well as the imaginative and increasingly visable activist/fundraising work of Harry Potter Alliance (which works, among other things, for GLBT rights and to end the genocide in Dafur). I was particularly impressed by the Harry and the Potters interview, which detailed how much charitable work they have done.

Walking the bridge as the cold increases

I had gotten a little out of the habit of walking the Stone Arch Bridge when that virus-related cough asthma-related cough was so bad. So I made the commitment to resume, calling kijjohnson on my cell phone when I started outside on my walk.

The day before yesterday, we cut the call short because the wind had risen so high that it was difficult for us to hear each other. Yesterday I didn't even go at all, because it was so cold, windy, and dark. I realized that my coat wasn't warm enough, and I didn't have a hat. I know, however, that I need to walk the bridge, particularly when winter starts to approach: not only do I need the exercise, I need the light.

So today, I wore my heavy winter coat, with my hat, and this morning I walked the bridge again. I couldn't call Kij, since Rob needed the phone today, so I was alone with only my thoughts and my iPod.

I never get tired of this walk, which seems almost strange to me. For my fifteen minute breaks, both mid-morning and mid-afternoon, I simply exit my building, walk two blocks to the river, turn at the Army Corps of Engineers building which overlooks the lock guarding the dam, and then walk across the bridge, turning back when I come to the bronze plaque overlooking the falls, halfway across the span. If I take a half hour walk during lunch, I go all the way across and take a circuit around the park on the other side before turning back. The iPod helps of course--one day earlier this week I didn't take it and then Kij wasn't available to pick up when I called her, and the walk then seemed quite different.

This time of the year, there are not nearly as many people. But still some. On bikes, wheeling strollers, and someone went by me on a skateboard today. Or simply walking, occasionally with dogs on the leash. There might be a knot of people or two by the long-distance viewfinders that overlook the site of the fallen 35W bridge, perhaps a group of Japanese tourists taking pictures. Several times a week I'll see a tour group riding Segways crossing the bridge, following the tour guide like a line of ducklings.

On the coldest days of all, there is only me. And wind, and the water, greenish-black, roaring over the dam, and the sky, sometimes sunlit, sometimes clouded. Gulls wheel overhead, and sometimes there is a V of geese flying overhead, heading south.

I love the bridge. I feel quite a proprietary pride in it, as if it belongs to me personally. The walk stirs my blood, and I know when I come back to my desk, my cheeks will be flushed and my breath rapid, my blood carbonated with exhilaration. It feels good.