King Faulty

ImageI want to wish a Happy Birthday to my best friend and my Best Man, Rick Rivera. My homie with the heart of gold.

If he were in NYC, I know we’d get all our friends together to celebrate. Since we can’t do that, I’ll try to celebrate here, on my blog, by doing what I know we’d do if we were all together in person, roast Rick

He’s a man of many personas. There’s Ricky Shortcuts, De La Vega, Ricky Shakespeare, Ricky Sensations (my favorite), and Ricolas Cage.

But KING FAULTY may be the most powerful and destructive of his personas as they affect everyone, including himself, across space and time. Faulty information and faulty directions – these are basic and expected. A) He once said that he was “a pitcher by trade”; we went out to play baseball and he was rocked for 8 runs in one inning. During a football game, we needed someone to play QB; he said he could do the job and I was excited about him leading the team to a touchdown. His first pass was at interception where the receiver was nowhere in the vicinity; he never QB’d ever again.  But there’s also his logic and reasoning that scoffs at convention and the socially acceptable. What do I mean? B) He once slept over at my place. When he woke up, he was hungry but didn’t want to waste time getting dressed. So he didn’t. He went to a grocery store called Salumeria – an Italian grocery store in an Italian neighborhood where Latinos are viewed as invaders – wearing ONLY A T-SHIRT AND BOXER SHORTS AND A PAIR OF TIMBERLAND BOOTS. C) He once wore a suit to church that he had left lying around instead of on a hanger. He wore that suit to church and while he was standing during worship, noticed a funny smell and realized that his cat had used it as kitty litter the night before. D) During a Fourth of July celebration in my backyard at my old place, he tied together the fuses of about 4 dozen firecrackers and then tied the entire collection with twine (all different kinds but mostly bottle rockets). His rationale was that all of them combined would go higher than the average rocket and that the blast would be more spectacular; his firecracker spaceship went as far as 7 feet in the air before its course flat-lined and went into the Fourth of July celebration in the neighbor’s backyard.  E) I noticed a strange smell when he walked by me once. It was sweet and fruity and…feminine. I asked, “Rick, what are you wearing?” He looked at his clothes and said, “Uh what? What do you mean?” I said, “I mean cologne? Which cologne is that? Cuz it definitely doesn’t smell like cologne bro.” He said, “Curve.” “Show me the box,” I replied, smiling. He brought me a golden-colored tin with white and pink lettering that spelled out “Curve Wave” on the front. I said, “Bro, I know it doesn’t actually say ‘for women’ on the box, but you couldn’t tell from the packaging – AND THEN FROM THE SMELL – that this is perfume?!” He had been wearing it at his plumbing supply job for a week.

Rick, oye pai! I love you bro! We all do! When you get back to NYC, we’ll be whole again! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!



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