My life has been one of consistent luck. I was lucky to get a girl to go to prom with me. I was lucky to graduate from college. I was lucky to have worked for Gov. Mike Sullivan and Sen. Craig Thomas (R-Wyo.), and I was lucky to have been the first comedian to have performed in Washington, D.C., after Sept. 11, 2001.

This week, my luck continues. I managed to get tickets to the Inauguration of President Barack Obama.

According to the various news reports out there, these tickets are nearly impossible to get. The “fair-market value” that I see for the tickets being sold on eBay and Craigslist suggests that mine are worth around $1,000 apiece. I am not the sort to sell such historic items anyway, so I might as well enjoy them. In fact, by the time you read this, I am probably shivering in Washington’s arctic cold and shuffling along in a line a million-people long, waiting to go through security where steely-eyed police will make sure I am not packing hand-warmers, folding chairs or thermoses filled with coffee. You’ll know if I get hypothermia. I’ll be the guy streaking across the Capitol Grounds thinking I am overheated. Hypothermia is funny that way.

If I survive the exposure to the frigid weather, I will then spend most of the rest of the day restoring my core temperature to 98.6 Fahrenheit and hoping my tuxedo pants still fit. You see, I have tickets to one of the Presidential Inaugural balls, too – black-tie events which are also funny.

For those who have ever wondered about the dignity and grace of a Presidential ball, let me dispel that myth right away. It is little more than prom for grown-up nerds. If you’ve ever had a conversation at the bar with the loudmouth you’ve never met who thinks he knows more about politics than you do, and wants to debate you about Canadian-style health care or why the income tax is voluntary, imagine him in a poorly fitting tux. Then imagine another thousand of him and his begowned wife or lady friend. Some of these couples will be dancing to up-tempo music played too loudly, while others will wait in long lines for the rest room or the cash bar. The Presidential ball, of which there are actually 10, is a wonderland of waiting around with political science nerds – which, apparently, includes me. I’m not proud of it but, at this point in my life, I have to come to grips with certain realities.

At some point in the evening, the new President and Vice President – and their wives – make a brief appearance and dance to one song before waving to the crowd and heading off to the next ball. They will appear at each of the 10 before finally heading to bed after what will surely have been a very long day.

When the dignitaries have shown up, danced and departed, that is the starting gun for the thousand aforementioned political nerds to race to the coat check to pick up their topcoats and to wait in lengthy lines in the cold night air for limousines or taxi cabs to take them to their homes, hotels or maybe to return their tuxedoes and formal gowns. Four years from now, the cycle will begin anew with prospective ticket holders hoping for good weather.

It is historic, to be sure, but there is something to be said for enjoying the moment in the comfort of your heated home. Television offers better views than any had by those standing frozen on the grounds of the U.S. Capitol, with shorter lines at the rest room.

To sum up, I am lucky to have the experience to say authoritatively that the inconveniences of Presidential inaugurations put the “sweet” in “Home, Sweet Home.” Enjoy the moment as you watch the swearing-in – but be glad you’re doing it at home.