Day Two of the new year: I drive downtown–errands. The satellite radio blares Van Morrison’s “Domino” and for a few seconds I’m on the New Jersey Turnpike in 1971 when “Domino” was at the top and I was doing 70 mph with $1,300 in cash on the passenger seat, thank you for your service money from the U.S. Army. But this is Sacramento, 46 years later, where people are lined up to buy pot. With dead Santas in front yards and Christmas trees in the gutter, the holidays are over. It hasn’t rained in weeks but it may in a few days. Schools are still closed. The Mega Millions drawing is tonight–Power Ball tomorrow. “Lady Bird” may play all year at the Tower. A series of red lights and stop signs can’t break the cadence–it’s good to be alive no matter where. At the Coop and its adventurous parking lot, I buy ten gallons of water. In line at the bank I hear two people say they spent too much for Christmas. I want to go home and walk the dog–they never complain.