Yesterday dragged like a dead gift from a housecat -- the soup was terrible and my head was an overpumped volleyball.

But then I went to a show. For chump change I saw 5 wonders of the world -- a funnyman called Jason Traeger, an unnamed woman who sang sad songs, a gangly gospel-singing man, a mighty electric-powered man-and-woman duo, and a possessed boy by the name of Thanksgiving. And he is a boy -- 18 at most -- and his songs are unabatedly potent. He stood tall, tilted, with a tiny cheap guitar, humming and mumbling, channeling ghosts, stomping circles out on the quivering floor.

It was beautiful. Very cold. It snowed.