The last couple of days, I’ve taken my daily walk inside, to Destiny USA.

Before I jump in the car, I have to deal with the look of disappointment mixed with just a tinge of pissed-off from my dear dog Ellie B. OK, maybe it’s just my guilt over the fact that when I decide to take the steps indoors, I know that means she won’t get to pull me around our neighborhood for her 45 minutes of happy sniffing. I let her out in the backyard more in an attempt to make up for it, but that doesn’t spur her to jump around the kitchen in joy like she does when I pull the blue leash out of the cabinet.

Together we braved the cold plenty this winter. But on a recent weekend mall-stroll with my beloved wife Karen, I decided the climate control was mighty alluring.

That turned into my weekday Destiny.

Fret not, Ellie B. It’s getting warmer. So Eastwood it will be again soon enough.

I can cover all four levels of the joint in a little more than an hour. If I book it. It’s easier to go fast in the new addition. Perhaps it’s because the stores are more spread out, what with those gaps in between where establishments have yet to open, but on a weekday, at least, there’s less foot traffic congestion in the Canyon and the halls leading to what we used to call Carousel Center.

So around the joint I go.

It stirs the brain. Sights. Sounds. Smells. Random senses spin the pieces of my figurative Rubik’s cube into assorted combinations.

Some things I’ve been thinking …

# Three red cars have caught my attention.

I could fit easily into the drivers seat of the red convertible Mercedes they’re raffling off as a fundraiser. I’d look good in it. I haven’t bought a ticket, though, so it’s a thought, not a dream.

I could squeeze into the open wheel Indy Series car parked inside velvet ropes. But it would be tight. But I’m a NASCAR fan — love the back-to-stock looks of the Gen 6 cars, by the way — so that, too, is a thought, not a dream.

I’d hate to try to fit into the zippy little things that fly around the very cool indoor track. As much fun as the younger people seem to be having as I watch them race, that’s not even a thought. It’s a nightmare.

# If you need to bone up just a little on presidential biographies, this is the place.

If I were a parent of a history-reluctant kid, I’d bring them to this exhibit and read each plaque together. Maybe I’ll stop and read ’em all on the way out anyway and relearn facts long forgotten. OK. You got me. Back up. And learn facts I’ve never known.

# Frozen yogurt looks good, what with two different stores in the new addition waiting for customers to heap on the toppings of their choice. Not for me, though.

# Cookies and cupcakes in adjacent storefronts absolutely grab you by the nose and make you stare. Definitely not for me, though.

# The aromas wafting from P.F. Chang’s is truth-in-advertising. The upscale Chinese food chain causes me to breathe deep every single time. I’ve already indulged for a lovely lunch with Karen. Sure was delicious, delightful, de-lovely, but somewhat expensive.

# At any given moment, you can spy a golfer lugging his or her bag through the new addition, heading to or from Opti-Golf.

That’s the spot where you whack balls into a screen, virtually playing great courses from around the world. My buddy Mark Libbon and I played the back nine of Congressional, the U.S.-Open worthy course in Maryland, where we both used to live in different periods of our lives.

It was a hoot, a great (but somewhat expensive) way to loosen the golf muscles and entertain the golf brain.

But I sure as heck felt like the mall-walkers were staring at me as I lugged my clubs to and from.

# T.G.I.F. Friday’s plays its music the loudest. That makes me think it’s rocking in the American pub fare chain every time I approach.

Betcha that’s why they crank it up. Sometimes, though, as I wheel by I look inside and imagine the diners and drinkers straining to hear each other.

# The just-opened Toby Keith’s I Love This Bar and Grille makes me feel like a kid outside the candy store. I’ve actually paused and pressed my face to the window, hands cupped to my eyes, to see through the tint and weigh what’s going on inside. In the early afternoon on a weekday, the bar looks almost full and the bar patrons look very happy. The lunchers appear satisfied with the fried bologna sandwiches and assorted apps.

Get some live music in there on a weekend, and Karen and I will be going. Draft beer out of a Mason jar, yessir, just like Toby’s song that launched this chain.

# I’m glad we’ve got Destiny at last.

Yeah, people will argue … too much public money … too many tax breaks … took too long to come to fruition.

Now that it’s built, though, a spin around the joint sure ain’t boring.