Weather and deep-ish thoughts

So, London has torn off its whiskers and revealed its true self over the last few weeks, making no pretence at sunshine or warmth as it did last summer (thus luring me into a false sense of security when I first arrived). It has been wet, moist, damp, aqueous, moist and soggy in turns since I got back from various travels, with no signs of change imminent.

Until this past weekend, that is, which was heavenly - bright and warm with temperatures in the early 20s and not the merest suspicion of rain to be seen. And London rejoiced by simultaneously hosting Wimbledon 2007 finals, the British Grand Prix, Live Earth, Le Tour de France and no doubt several other less well known but not less worthy events. I celebrated by spending a third of the weekend in bed with a cold, another third by braving Oxford Street on a Saturday and getting severe crowd rage, and a final third in a darkened cinema watching Ocean's 13.

Fear not though, they're predicting that we'll go back to rain and storms this week, so I can go back to my usual routine of wearing flip flops and walking around outside.

Last week KY, Rachel, James and I went to watch some sort of independent play malarkey at the Old Red Lion Theatre - a Canadian production named (aptly it turns out) Get Away. Badly delivered monologues about a post-apocalyptic world and paedophile undertones ensured that we did, as soon as they broke for interval.

Three days to the fifth Harry Potter film. Eleven to the seventh and final book. As this era comes to an end, I found myself speculating on whether the Harry phenomenon might be the pop culture influence that defines my youth. I mean I like the Beatles and many people love Star Wars but for someone my age or younger, I wonder if we can really know what it felt like to feel excited about them, look forward to them and experience them when they first happen. I may own every Beatles album but I'll never understand what it's like to have their music happen in my lifetime. And perhaps that's what Harry does for me? I've invested the last seven years in learning about him, following his every move, hypothesising what will happen next to him and, it appears now, contemplating on what his life means to me. I can barely contain my excitement at the next film (found myself ever so slightly teary-eyed at the posters outside the Odeon in Leicester Square and watching the trailers has routinely sent me into supersonic high pitched squeaks, ever since the first one back in 2001) and have been counting down to this book coming out since I finished the last one in a single day back in 2005. I'm not sure anything else has, or necessarily can, mean so much without actually being a true-life experience. And for kids in the future, whose parents will no doubt get them the Harry Potter books, the same way the rest of us watched Star Wars or read Lord of The Rings after the fact, which they will probably love and treasure, it will still never feel like this. Somehow I like that idea. I only hope that we don't become so degenerate as a society that the next set of kids never have a similar experience of their own.