It’s seven degrees below zero in Montana, and the world is as fresh as a newborn babe completely encased in ice. Happy New Year to you and yours from me and me. I’ll be setting out for the wooded mountains in a few hours, where I will have a great time and/or die. Provided one or neither of those things happens, we’ll be back on Monday with a bold new perspective that looks remarkably similar to our old one. We’ll have a bunch of gym-related rules for ourselves, though.