Friday, January 23, 2015


This week was somewhat frantic with an emergency truck repair (or two) and car rental drama, but a few positive things still managed to push their little sun-shiny rays through the crap:

Exhibit A:   JUSTIFIED is back!  There are few things a little Raylan Givens v. Boyd Crowder v. Dewey Crowe can't fix. And I can't help but still like Art, even though he's a right-wing wackadoo in real life (guess this is one of those instances where you have to separate "Art" from life. Ha! See what I did there?).  (P.S. If you think Walton Goggins is the bomb in Justified, check out his fantastic turn as transgender escort Venus in Sons of Anarchy. Sublime.) 

Exhibit B:   Playoff football!  ...  Oh yeah, not one good thing on that front.  Except maybe a new team name for fantasy football next year.  Something about Belichick and deflated balls.  Gotta get something good out of a bad situation.  

Exhibit C:  If you haven't seen the DashCam Confessional video showing a Dover police officer singing along (and much, much more) to Taylor Swift's "Shake It Off," then take a gander at that little treasure right here.  I don't care if it's real or staged, it makes me giggle every time I watch it.

Exhibit D:  Saved the best for (almost) last.  THIS:

This beauty was rescued from the mountains of Taiwan, where she was abandoned in an ongoing golden retriever dumping issue in that territory.  I didn't think I was ready (I know I wasn't ready) for another dog so soon after losing Hank, but when I got word the flight was coming in on 1/16 I had to fish or cut bait.  Thankfully, I fished, she's fantastic.

Exhibit E:  From the "We Are Not Doomed" files:  On my way to the airport to meet the rescue group and the flight from Taiwan (a group of 16 dogs was on the way), my car lost all power and died in the right lane of 101N during rush hour (not tops on the list of ways to make friends and influence people).  I was ONE MILE from the airport exit.  

What could have been a disaster turned out not so bad, thanks to some really nice people, almost all strangers, coming out of the woodwork to help.  Two fellow motorists pulled over with flashers and tow ropes. Two separate trucks from 511 (roadside assistance) came along within 10 minutes and towed me off the freeway to a gas station where AAA could meet me.  AAA came within another 10 minutes and took my car to a local shop.

At which point I was standing in the dark at a Standard station, dog bed under my arm, waiting for two of the rescue group volunteers to pick me up (arranged by the head of the rescue group - like she didn't have 8,000 other things going on that night).  These folks had driven up from Monterey and happened to be eating dinner in a joint across the street.  Twenty minutes later they picked me up and took me to the airport with them to meet the plane.

Thankfully my sister had always planned on meeting me at the airport, but she got the added bonus of taking me and new dog all the way home to Alameda (then back again to her house, all after commuting 45 minutes each way to work. Sisters, can't beat 'em). Eight strangers and one patient sister helped make my night picking up the new addition a good story instead of a "mascara running down my face" story (if I'd been wearing mascara).   

TGIF y'all!


Pop Culture Nerd said...

So much awesomeness all the way around, especially your new baby, your sis, and the kindness of strangers.

Malcolm Avenue Review said...

It was pretty amazing. At first I was grateful just to avoid being street pizza, but as the night wore on, it dawned on me what a confluence of kindness had me standing in that airport on time.

About Malcolm Avenue Review

I was lucky enough to be born and raised in a nifty, oak-shaded ranch house on Malcolm Avenue, a wide-laned residential street with little through traffic, located amid the foothills of Northern California. It was on that street and in that house I learned most of my adolescent life lessons, and many grown-up ones to boot. Malcolm Avenue was "home" for more than thirty years.

It was on Malcolm Avenue, through and with my family and the other families that made up our neighborhood of characters, that I first learned about and gained an appreciation for the things I continue to love the most to this day: music, animals, photography, sports, television/movies and, of course, books.

I owe a debt of gratitude to that life on Malcolm Avenue. It gave me a sense of community and friendship, support and adventure. For better and worse, life on that street likely had the biggest impact on the person I've become. So this blog, and the things I write here, are all, at their base level, a little bit of a love letter to Malcolm Avenue.


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