Vastly aiding my research efforts has been Billboard magazine's "The Decade in Music" special issue. The actuarial wizards at the music-industry mag have parsed data on sales numbers just about every way possible. One list in particular caught my attention, for reasons I'll explain in a minute. But first, a bit of a digression.

As I've reflected on the last 10 years in music, one thing I've noticed is that the '00s lack much in the way of a definable personality. Sure, there have been loads of technical innovation in how music gets distributed. But where the '70s majored in prog rock and disco, the '80s delivered new wave and hair metal, and the '90s served up grunge and hip-hop, it's hard to identify a single signature sound that's emerged this decade. Instead, it's a fragmented, repackaged potpourri of everything that came before.

If there's one Billboard chart that arguably confirms that observation, it's the magazine's "Decade-End Top 25 Tours" list. Turns out the list is well-populated by acts that emerged in the '70s, '80s and '90s—even a couple that got their start in the '60s.

Take a look at the top touring acts of the last decade. The Rolling Stones—who played their first gig in 1962!—came in at No. 1 (with 264 shows generating nearly $870 million in gross revenue). U2 was the second biggest touring act, followed by Madonna, Bruce Springsteen, Elton John, Celine Dion, Dave Matthews Band, Kenny Chesney, and Bon Jovi. Billy Joel nabbed the last spot in the Top 10.

Of those, only two debuted in the 1990s: Kenny Chesney (1993) and Dave Matthews Band (1994). Where are the aughts, you ask? Only one band in the Top 25, Rascal Flatts (No. 21), arrived during the 2000s.

So what are we to make of this? Are the aughts really that forgettable when it comes to music and musicians that will stand the test of time? Or do you think this list skews the way it does because older fans simply have more discretionary income to pony up for the pricey shows these top notch performers put on?

I can't say that I have the definitive answer. But I do know this: I've got my tickets for U2 when they come to town next spring.

But Avatar wasn’t the only show in town. In fact, three films—Avatar, Sherlock Holmes, and Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakquel—made more than $50 million and helped propel the box office to a record $278 million take. And if I was to guess, I’d imagine that a good many of you have seen at least one of these flicks.

The only one I can personally comment on is Sherlock Holmes, a PG-13 reworking of the classic literary detective. Forget the deerstalker hat, the demurely curved pipe and the ever-present magnifying glass. The 21st-century Holmes is still plenty smart, but he’s not just an investigator anymore: He’s an avenger, able to kick the stuffing out of nefarious henchmen as he searches for tell-tale balls of lint. And while he’s loitering in Victorian-era fight clubs, sharpening his hand-to-hand combat skills, his friend Dr. Watson is skulking around the wharf with a gun in his pocket and a blade in his cane.

Granted, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s original Sherlock Holmes mysteries had some action in them. I believe both Holmes and Watson packed heat a time or two. But there’s a difference between characters prudently preparing themselves for violent confrontation and positively hankering for it. In an effort to bring us a Holmes and Watson that felt fresh and unfamiliar, director Guy Ritchie has taken two unique literary characters and made them—well, utterly familiar, and fairly indistinguishable from today’s crop of fictional crime-busting heroes. I mean, the only thing separating Holmes from Batman is a cowl, a car and Gotham City.

And that’s what we need in movies today: More homogeny.

But hey, I’m a fan of the original books, so perhaps I’m a bit biased. What did you think? And squeak in on The Chipmunks if you want, too. The Squeakquel probably won’t be on my movie-watching radar for a bit … but should it be?

Bob Hoose, associate editor: Bing Crosby’s Merry Christmas (re-released as White Christmas) came out in 1945 and is considered by many—myself included—to be the quintessential Christmas album. It’s incredible. It features Bing doing his Decca Music classics such as "White Christmas" and "I’ll Be Home for Christmas." He harmonizes with the Andrew Sisters, croons through beautiful hymns, then boo-boo-boos his way through novelty songs such as "Mele Kalikimaka." It’s no wonder that Merry Christmas is the best-selling Christmas album of all time.

Steven Isaac, online editor: Sara Groves has a great Christmas album called O Holy Night, and we listen to it every year over and over and over again. One of our favorite songs on that album is called "Toy Packaging." It’s a fabulous little song all about the package the toy comes in. It reminds us of what’s really important at Christmastime.

Bob Smithouser, senior editor: First and foremost on my family’s list is the soundtrack to A Charlie Brown Christmas by the Vince Guaraldi Trio. It really ushers us into the season. Hearing that young choir sing "Christmas Time Is Here" almost feels like an official proclamation that advent has indeed begun (even if stores have had decorations up since Halloween). Masterful piano work. Relaxingly upbeat. It’s just the perfect Christmas album. Our family tradition for trimming the tree includes a pot of hot cocoa and that CD.

Adam Holz, senior associate editor: In our family we really like Christmas Eve and Other Stories by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra. It’s an ’80s metal band that sort of morphed into this Christmas and holiday band. That particular album, the band’s first, is a collection of 17 songs. It’s a mixture of traditional Christian hymns and more contemporary stuff. Some of the tracks are instrumental. It’s heavy, but our family really likes it.

Kevin Simpson, graphic designer/game reviewer: I love Elvis’ Christmas Album, released in 1957. I can do without the few songs about Santa and sleigh bells, but the rest of it is pure Elvis. It just doesn’t get any better than his rendition of "Blue Christmas." And "I’ll Be Home for Christmas" always chokes me up a bit—makes me think of Dad reading to us from the second chapter of Luke. "O Little Town of Bethlehem" as sung by the King of Rock & Roll is simply epic. The thing I like most about this album is that four old-school gospel songs made the cut. Now that’s a CHRISTmas record!

Bob Waliszewski, Plugged In director: Skip Ewing’s country disc Following Yonder Star is right up there at the top of our list of Christmas favorites. I especially love the song "It Wasn’t His Child," which talks of a young man accepting the baby of the woman he loves, even though it isn’t his. And we come to find out that man is Joseph. There are other original songs, plus classic carols such as "O Come All Ye Faithful," "The Little Drummer Boy" and "Silent Night."

Jesse Florea, contributing editor: Rivertribe Christmas is one of the most unique Christmas CDs on the market. A group of Christians from Australia, Rivertribe released this instrumental Christmas album in 2003. With its interesting instrumentation and unusual arrangements, it makes for relaxing background music as didgeridoo and other unconventional instruments put you in the Christmas spirit.  You’ve never heard "The First Noel," "We Three Kings," "Silent Night" and other Christmas classics played like this.

Meredith Whitmore, associate editor: My favorite Christmas album is absolutely A Charlie Brown Christmas. I’ve lived all over the world, and Christmas looks a lot different in various states or countries without my family. The only constant factors I’ve had are "Linus and Lucy" (fun to play by ear on the piano) and "Christmas Time Is Here." One of my friends thinks that last song sounds like the kids are whining through sinus infections. But as right as she is about some things, she’s wrong here.

Paul Asay, associate editor: I’ve gotta be honest, I’m not a big fan of Christmas music. I don’t know what it is. It just feels a little hokey to me. But when my wife pops out the Christmas CDs, my favorite is always Boogie Woogie Christmas by the Brian Setzer Orchestra. If you like horns, this is for you. It has everything from "Jingle Bells" to "O Holy Night" and even a swing version of "The Nutcracker Suite." Setzer has had other holiday albums, but that’s the one I most enjoy.

Well, there you have it. Those are the Christmas CDs members of our team can listen to over and over, year after year. Do you have a perennial favorite? Tell us about it. We’d love to know which albums make your season bright.

So in hindsight it was probably a good idea to change some of the lyrics.

In the original version of "Bohemian Rhapsody," Freddie Mercury sings, "Mama, [I] just killed a man/Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger now he’s dead/Mama, life has just begun/But now I’ve gone and thrown it all away."

In the Muppet video, Animal gets as far as "Mama" before getting his needle stuck on that single word, exploring its emotional resonance until the song is able to resume at a point more appropriate for the Sesame Street crowd. That artistic decision shows a lot of sensitivity. And it’s probably wise. I mean, what parent of a preschooler tuning in to see Kermit wants to have to explain a homicide?

Nevertheless, it occurred to me that slightly older children might actually benefit from Queen’s original lyrics. At a time when popular music (rap in particular) often cheapens life by glamorizing murder and making gunplay sound heroic, "Bohemian Rhapsody" does just the opposite, providing a healthy dose of reality. It points out that killing another person carries consequences. It can’t be undone. There’s anguish and regret in Mercury’s voice as he realizes that his violent choice means the end of his own life and untold grief for his mother. In short, the song is a cautionary tale that reinforces Exodus 20:13 and Galatians 6:7, much like another pop hit from the 1970s, Styx’s "Renegade."

The bigger question we’re left with is this: At what point should we shift from protecting our children from the ugliness of the world to preparing them for its harsh realities by using the parables of secular media to illustrate biblical truth?

Now, I’m not all about money. I probably would’ve been quite content to live in the agrarian days of yore when you’d go out and barter a cow for bags of seed corn.  But as I was buying Christmas gifts and trying to ignore my bank account’s plaintive cries for mercy, I came upon a news article that made me just about drop my Santa’s beard.

The rapper Nas was recently ordered by a Los Angeles judge to pay monthly child and spousal payments of $51,101. Now, I’m not griping about the ex-spouses settlement. I’m sure she needs every cent (right down to that last buck). I just found it interesting that the judge concluded that 51 grand a month wouldn’t be too taxing for a hip-hop star to cover. Just pocket change, really. And that got me thinking: What a bizarre world we live in.

We as a society are so focused on pop culture and entertainment that we place an unwarranted amount of value on rappers’ and other celebrities’, uh, contributions. Meanwhile, teachers, soldiers and policemen (and hard-working writers, for that matter) just scrape by.

Sure, I know it’s that age-old question of supply and demand. They supply. We buy. Somebody ends up with gazillions in alimony. But my mind keeps running to the limping economy, skyrocketing prices, struggling families, anchorless young people and a nagging feeling that the value of things has somehow, somewhere, become slightly unhinged.

But then, what do I know? I still haven’t gotten a good offer for this cow.

The Princess and the Frog

Princess’ $25 million take was fit for—well, a princess. And there was a lot to like about it: a great heroine, a compelling bad dude, some really beautiful art … but I had a few reservations.

While I don’t think Disney’s trying to convert anyone to Voodoo, the film’s murky spirituality was problematic at times. Moreover, I didn’t think the film measured up, artistically, to Disney’s best. I mean, it’s great to see Disney return to its 2-D, hand-drawn animated roots and all, and it’s a lot better than, say, Disney’s anthropomorphic Robin Hood (which, truth be told, is my wife’s favorite Disney movie). But is it as good as Pinocchio? The Lion King? Beauty and the Beast? I think not.

But enough from me. Now it’s your turn: Did you see The Princess and the Frog? If so, what did you think? Did you rue that Voodoo? And how does it compare to Disney classics of yesteryear?

My first thought was,

She looked dirty. Like her hair was matted and could have used a long visit with Head & Shoulders. Then there was that huge nose ring. I hadn’t seen many pierced nostrils before—and only "bad girls" did it then—but Christina Aguilera wasn’t afraid to buck society with nasal trinkets. That 2002 picture of her still sticks in my mind. (In a maybe-I-should-shower-again sort of way.)

Her grunginess aside, the once-rare nose ring can now be seen everywhere. Trendsetter Christina paved the way for cleaner cut Miley Cyrus, Scarlett Johansson, Jordin Sparks and Kelly Clarkson, and even for Jane Doe and some of my friends and family members. Probably yours too. It seems to have taken just a few Hollywood celebrities and some photo spreads to reorganize lots of people’s thinking on the matter.

While I’m no longer shocked by holey nasal cartilage—in part because I’ve also seen countless women with studs overseas—it can still cause controversy in the United States.

I know. Last week out of sheer curiosity (and impishness too), I walked into the office wearing a fake stud on my left nostril. I did it because I wanted to see how much of the stigma remains—and more important, assess what the nebulous stigma is.

The tiny Austrian crystal got interesting comments from the few who noticed it—but only after I’d told them it was fake. Among the remarks? Some said things like, "It looks so genuine! I love it! Get a real one!" Others, however, were less flattering, saying, "Women who do this are insecure or angry," or, "Women who do this are vain and careless," or, "They’re just looking for attention."

All over the map, aren’t they? But certainly less disparaging than they would have been 10 or 20 years ago. And that’s largely because of media.

So now I want to cast the net wider. In your part of the world, is this kind of piercing becoming a more acceptable societal norm much the way ear-piercing has over the last 50 years? Or do you think the stigmas are more often true than not? Most important, why do you feel the way you do?

For the record, I will never get my nose pierced. I don’t especially love my snout, but I’d like to keep it intact. Even the slim possibilities of infection, scarring and necrotic tissue just aren’t appealing. And honestly, dealing with the labels I’d probably get, coupled with my own second-guessing, aren’t either.

It’s about 78 degrees below zero where I live, which means it’s too cold to think, much less type. So I’m going to ask you to do the blog’s heavy lifting today while I drink a cup of hot chocolate.

In the latest installment of my Not Just a Movie series, I talk a bit about R-rated films. While lots of Christians say they never watch R-rated fare (unless it’s The Passion of the Christ), studies suggest that, generally, believers aren’t much more picky than non-believers. In fact, Christians are slightly more likely to see violent R-rated movies than their non-churched brethren.

Interesting.

While Plugged In, naturally, takes a dim view of R-rated content, some R-rated stories can be pretty powerful. I’d never, for instance, be able to recommend Precious, loaded as it is with reams of raunchy language and very disturbing content and themes. It’s a film that I’d have trouble sitting through again, truth be told. But did it make me think? Yes indeedy. Would it have been worth it if I wasn't reviewing it?

Let me evade answering that question by asking another one: Do you watch R-rated films? How often? And how do you decide whether they’re worth seeing? (Extra points to anyone who says, "By reading Plugged In reviews, of course!")

It’s a funny thing how watching movies can give you ideas you might not have had otherwise. Even if, perhaps, you’re old enough to know better.

Take the case of 67-year-old Michael Crane. In November, Crane purchased a remote control airplane from Coastal Hobbies in Rockport, Maine. It was a combined birthday and Christmas present for his grandson, he said.

The plane apparently did not work. And when the doting grandpa took it back to exchange it, he was told that the plane would need to be repaired. The wait time? Indefinite, Crane reports.

When Crane asked if he could get his money back or exchange the plane for another that worked, he was told that those things were against the store’s exchange policies, which were clearly posted throughout the establishment.

Crane left, angry. He went home, in fact, and popped in Clint Eastwood’s 1965 Italian Spaghetti Western A Fistful of Dollars. And that, he claims, inspired what happened next.

Crane returned to the store with an Eastwood-style ultimatum: Give me my money back, give me a new plane … or I’m just going to take one. Punk. (OK, he probably didn’t add that last part). Store owner Kent Woodward was unwilling to comply with options A or B, so Crane made good on option C.

He’s now facing theft charges.

Now, admittedly, this cause-and-effect story is a bit different from the kinds we normally see—stories that generally involve young people imitating risky behavior they’ve seen in a movie, on TV or on YouTube.

But it does illustrate how media can give us ideas that might not have occurred to us—even if the idea comes from a 44-year-old film watched by a 67-year-old grandfather.

So how about you? Have you ever been inspired—for good or ill—to implement some idea or scheme you saw in a movie? What happened and what did you learn (if anything)?

Last week, Virginia couple Tareq and Michaela Salahi allegedly crashed a state dinner in honor of India’s prime minister. The Salahis—who also are said to have invaded the Congressional Black Caucus Foundation’s Awards Dinner—claim they were uncertain whether they were invited to the White House. So they showed up "just in case." Somehow (without tickets, according to authorities), they made it through security and schmoozed their way into having their pictures taken with the likes of Joe Biden, Rahm Emanuel and the President himself. (Secret Service heads are rolling for this, no doubt.)

Here’s the kicker: the Salahis are reportedly being considered for roles in a planned reality TV show series Real Housewives of D.C., and the couple posted their White House pictures on Facebook, seemingly for more exposure. That's when things got crazy.

Hey, I know Facebook has its positives, and I enjoy them. But lately I just want the entire social networking and grappling for fame thing to disappear. This shenanigan smacks of Balloon Boy 2.0. And who knows what else people will try to pull off in the name of attention later on?

Have you ever considered what kind of people we would become if Facebook and reality TV suddenly went "bye-bye?" If our culture didn’t make people famous for merely being famous?

Personally, I’d probably dance a jig.