Ok, I admit it. I completely got sucked into the whole Harry Potter thing. As much as I tried to dismiss the idea of going out in public and possibly standing in line in order to buy a children’s book I just could not pull it off. Curiosity just got the best of me. Let me start by saying I am really not much of a Harry Potter fan. I have nothing against people who have lightning bolt scars on their forehead; I just don’t have a lot in common with a hormonally imbalanced British teen-ager who happens to be a wizard. We seem to have very little in common. I’ve never played Quidditch and I really don’t follow that sport. I couldn’t even tell you who played seeker at the last all-star game. I’m not pursuing an educational degree in magic and I’ve never even seen an Antipodean Opaleye (which according to my daughter is a dragon native to New Zealand whose favorite food is sheep which it only kills when it is hungry). About the only thing we do have in common is a hatred of evil wizards. In Harry’s case it is Voldemort where my loathing is directed to Derek Jeter. Given these differences it is hard to believe that I am getting ready to leave the house at 10 PM to brave the elements (hey it is still 105 degrees out there) to rub elbows (or some other magical body part) with the Potter-ites.