Friday, April 10, 2015

STRICTLY POSITIVE

No wordy preamble this week, let's just dive right into the good stuff (I know I need it):

Exhibit A:   Sometimes you've gotta go through some gross to get to the good. Poor young Jack managed to puke all over Powell's Books while visiting Oregon. But being the kind, sensitive sort, he sent an apology note to the store, enclosing a gift card for Ben & Jerry's. Now I love my Ben & Jerry's, but I'm not sure I'd go so far as to clean up a strange kid's expulsions for a free pint. My own kid's, maybe. Best part? The card was addressed "Attention Barf Cleaners." I love Jack:



Exhibit B:  This is cute yet dumbfounding. Police in Paramus, New Jersey got a call that a goat was headbutting a door in a residential neighborhood. WHO CALLS THE COPS ON A DOOR-KNOCKING GOAT?!  THIS IS MY LIFE'S DREAM!  For future reference, disorderly goats, I will not call The Man if you should come knocking on my door:


Exhibit C:  This is awesome and the best use of work time I've seen in a long while. The walls at The Shop, a creative agency, were pretty boring until designer Ben Brucker got a brilliant idea and set to work with 9,000 Post-Its. I'm not even going to spoil it with words, just look. And then hit the link and see all 24 pics of the transformation:


Exhibit D:  Two words: Therapy llama:


Exhibit E:  How cool is this idea? A nursing home in the Netherlands allows students to live in the facility for free so long as they spend 30 hours a week being "good neighbors." That doesn't mean just quietly watching TV in their rooms and not burying bodies under the slab. These students celebrate birthdays, watch TV, and simply offer companionship to the residents. A fabulous idea all around, I think, and the benefits go both ways. What whippersnapper can't benefit from a little aged wisdom?

Although the students must follow the rules and "not be a nuisance to the elderly," the head of the facility jokes this is not much of a problem since most of the residents are hard of hearing.  Huzzah Netherlands:


Exhibit F:  Gird your loins for some puppy pics, last weekend was the Golden Retriever Rescue reunion play day. Fun was had by all (only a few pawsticuffs towards the end of a long, hot day) and B had a blast. I have no idea how many dogs/owners attended, but with those coming and going I have to guess at least 50-60. What better way to spend a day than on a plot of land full of goldens? None, I say:

Quite a greeting first thing in the gate:



Group reindeer games:



(Who's the one good kid who sits patiently while waiting for the toss?)



B always waits to be invited to take the ball:


Just like Bo Derek in 10, right?


Hanging with the other kids at the pool:



Hogging the pool:


A few of my favorite solo shots:




Group shot of the Taiwan dogs left at the end of the day. Not sure how many were there in total, but that's a lot of lives saved:


If you've come this far, thanks for indulging me. As payback, I will look at as many kid/pet/food shots as you want to post in the comments.

TGIF, ya'll.

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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