I think that I have finally reached my limit on listening to politicians, talk show hosts, news commentators, and other media sources fulminate about life, the world, and each other. Although I’m a “news junkie” I’m just sick of listening to everybody blame everybody else for all the ills of the world. I know that it’s no good to just hide from the world, but, really, it just seems as though there’s simply no good news – at least in the media – anymore.

What ever happened to those wonderful human interest stories that editors so loved? I think we need to hear about some loyal dogs saving their families from harm, young children creating brilliant works of art, whole communities banding together to raise money to pay for a heart transplant for the local postman, anything with a happy ending. I grew up believing that America was about happy endings; what’s changed so much that we seem never to have them anymore?

Because I need the occasional happy ending in my daily life I’ve taken the past few weeks off from the sorrows of the modern world. I’ve done three things to make myself feel better. I’ve given some extra money to charity and committed myself (and my tolerant and kindly wife) to give even more over the next few months.

Second, I contacted an animal rescue group and adopted a cute little bichon frise with bad allergies (his name is Archie) and I’m nursing him back to health. And, third, with Archie and my other animal companions sitting by me, I’ve been reading some books I’ve wanted to read for a while.

The first book I’ve read during my vacation from everyday reality is “The Lost Van Gogh” by A.J. Zerries, who is actually a husband and wife writing team. I’m addicted to mystery novels about art. The folks at The Raven know that whenever they get one in they have to call me immediately.

“The Lost Van Gogh” has all the elements I enjoy. The protagonist is a New York City cop with a degree in art history assigned to be New York’s “art cop” (the police officer in charge of crimes involving art). The heroine-victim is a woman college professor of film who receives in the mail from a mysterious source a lost work of Van Gogh once owned by her grandfather, who was murdered by Nazis.

And, of course, there are Mossad spies from Israel and an evil Nazi officer who has spent the past 50 years in hiding in South America. The plot is filled with twists and turns, like every mystery story must have. It’s also filled with wonderful vignettes of the art world and the less-than-virtuous activities of some New York and European dealers.

There’s even an evil Yakuza crime boss from Tokyo who makes an appearance. And, best of all, the bad guys lose, the good guys win, and the college professor and the tough cop live happily ever after. It has a happy ending.

The second book I’ve been reading is a new biography of Sir Francis Crick, the co-discoverer of the structure of DNA. It’s by a scientist, Matt Ridley. When I was younger I read James Watson’s “The Double Helix” a half-dozen times because I found it so fascinating and the human face he put to science so compelling. But Watson’s story was designed to be a best-seller and often favored drama over accuracy.

Ridley’s new biography loses none of the fascinating humanity but maintains objectivity. Crick (whom I once met at a party he hosted in Cambridge before he moved to the United States) was one of the greatest scientific geniuses of the 20th century. His work on the structure of DNA and the genetic code made modern genomics possible.

For the last two decades of his life he worked on the physical aspects of human consciousness and made significant progress in this field as well. He lived a rich life of science, family, and friends. And when he died in 2004 at the age of 86 he left behind a rich treasure house of research he had done, students he had taught, and family and friends he’d loved and been loved by, all in all a happy ending as well.

So, my suggestion to you, gentle readers, is take some time this summer and find some happy endings. We all need them.