I was for a brief moment worried that a combination of the lunar eclipse and the outcome of the World Series was going to result in my house being burnt down, but my fears were unfounded. Beside hundreds lof oud “woooos,” honking horns, police sirens, and scattered fireworks, there wasn’t much of a commotion on my side of town.

Provided that Symphony Hall didn’t get torched and looted, I’m going to see the Boston Symphony perform Le Sacre du Printemps tonight, and I’m more than a little jazzed. The fact that I’m jazzed jazzes me all the more, as at one point I was so indifferent to attending concerts that if J.S. Bach himself had been coming to town to perform a never-before-heard piece I’d be indifferent. It’s a sad thing indeed to lose passion. And so Stravinsky tonight, along with Ligeti and Schoenberg. I’m going to be one happy Jeffrey.