We drove past downtown Denver this morning, the Sunday prior to the Democratic National Convention. It was quiet. So far the signs include only these: cleaner streets and two parking tickets in as many days for yours truly. Ugh! The first was for leaving my car in front of my house on the dreaded street sweeping day. (You know, those days when 'they' often don't actually sweep the streets but are nevertheless conscientious about handing out tickets.) The second was for parking overtime at a meter. I was in arbitration at the JAG (Judicial Arbiter's Group) and had to run out to plug the meter every two hours. Not wanting to miss the juicy bits, I took a chance! My favorite hot dog vendor at the corner of Blake and Seventeenth Streets told me I'd missed it by mere moments. Oh, well. Win some, lose some. There's sure to be more momentous DNC news later . . .