Seven degrees... of something

It is 19 degrees here at the moment. That's one of two reasons I'd rather be in Pasadena. The low Friday night is supposed to be seven.

Seven.

Seven is a lot of things -- how old you are when you're in the second grade, the number of abominable sins, what George Costanza wanted to name his firstborn. It should never be a temperature.

I have the intention to do some sort of year-end post, eventually. Of course, the road to sparse blogging is paved with good intentions. I'll be the only person to do a decade retrospective in March. Apparently, I've resolved to procrastinate even more in 2010. And be even less productive. Sort of anti-resolutions, I guess you could say.

In the meantime, the new decade got off to a rousing start with the Trans-Siberian Orchestra concert in Birmingham Saturday night. Great balls of fire! No, I mean there literally were balls of fire shooting up from the stage, along with smoke, lasers, fireworks -- it was like a rock concert.

The best part of all? There was no opening act. TSO played the whole time! Two-and-a-half hours of auditory and visual delight. I wish more artists would take a cue from them. The ticket prices were reasonable. Granted, we had to duck to avoid hitting our heads on the ceiling of the arena, but still.

The only minor disappointment of the evening was that there was no "guest maestro" segment where they let a member of the audience come on stage and conduct a song. Is there any doubt I would have turned that mutha out on Mad Russian's Christmas?

Next up, we have the national championship game on Thursday night--the "other" reason I wish I was in Pasadena. I don't want to say anything else about that for fear of jinxing something. But combine those two events with the fact that I have signed up to run a 5K at the Nashville Zoo later this month, and I'm hopeful I may have finally found the formula to ward off the Januarys this year.

If that doesn't work, I'll just revert to my usual hibernatory self.

Also, I should probably take down my Christmas tree at some point. Ah, but those pesky anti-resolutions doth preclude me.

"I'd be safe and warm if I was in L.A. California dreamin' on such a winter's day..."