A Little Dollop of Happy

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Crime takes me terrible places. Sad places. Outrageous places. 

So the opposite, a sudden discovery of pure cheerful-happy, makes me feel like a luscious swirl of molten gold and melty chocolate is pouring over me.

This afternoon I noticed a tweet from Dick Van Dyke asking for requests. You know, like a piano playa' in a saloon.  I saw the responses he got and added my own. Not too long after I saw him post a no-frills tweet with a link in it. I clicked on the link, noting happily that it was labeled with the very first request on the list.

The many faces of D. Van D. make crime author go from sad to happy!

What could possibly make you smile more than Dick Van Dyke singing in his living room, apparently, with what I assume are family members, a number they cooked up instantaneously from a twitter request?  If this does not make you smile, you are a lost cause. 

Look at how much fun Dick Van Dyke is having in his living room. And look how he can't contain himself from sharing that playful outlook on life with a world that is full of madness and sorrow. I know nothing about Dick Van Dyke's personal life other than his brother is fabulously talented and that his son and grandson made their way into his show, Diagnosis: Murder. 

But his public life certainly provided many moments of magic and laughter for my own personal life. From Bert the chimney sweep in Mary Poppins through that weekly trip over the ottoman in Rob Petrie's living room to the hapless divorced dad re-wooing Debbie Reynolds in Divorce American Style and so many others, all Dick Van Dyke has to do is appear on screen for me to start smiling. Is it any different for anybody else? 

I spent today talking to victims of crime and re-reading my essay on the downward spiral they sometimes take and giving my thoughts on the criminal mind to TV producers. None of these are happy thoughts. Then Dick Van Dyke popped up directly from his own living room to mine, like a jack-in-the-box whose spring can arc all the way from California's beaches to Arizona's deserts. 

Or like a chimney sweep who can jump from a sooty hearth directly into a bright sidewalk painting....

Awwww....for just a moment or two, no more crime, gunshots, or twisted psyches, just rivers of melty-golden-chocolate!  Thank you, Mr. Van Dyke!

"Against the assault of laughter, nothing can stand." Mark Twain, I wish you could have known Rob Petrie. Hit me, baby!

Please visit the Bookstore tab above to browse 

Every time you make a purchase here, it helps me be able to do more for you!

Pssst! Going to jail, buying documents, and everything else it takes to get this kind of info for the blog takes time and money!