A palindrome for a friend. Missing friends and mixing faces.
- When we were about 14 years old, Aviv and I went bicycling; catastrophe struck on St. Leonard Rd. when the Aviv’s seat aborted itself from the the bike, leaving him traveling downhill at 30mph, hovering dangerously close to being sodomized by a seatpost. The clang of metal on asphalt, some sparks, and a high pitch shriek later and we had both survived the ordeal… but barely.
- It was breakfast hour at a McDonalds on Columbus Blvd. I was about to dive into McBiscuit rapture when Aviv made his way back from the counter. Blinded by the promise of a morning meal, Aviv, orange-juice-in-hand, plowed headlong into a small child in a high-chair at another table with its family… the high-chair, complete with child, was sent spinning wildly across the dining room. The child’s parents shocked look was priceless as Aviv, panicking, ignored the happenings and continued on his way to join us at the breakfast table.
- Aviv maintained the local Bucks County record for most correctly answered Blockbuster trivia questions, until a chance incident involving a trip lever, a ball float, and a water control assembly left him unable to show face in any Pennsylvania Blockbuster until the later part of 2007. His second coming was punctuated by false rumors of Blockbuster censorship and futile attempts to jumpstart the battery of a car with a faulty starter.
- One winter, Aviv fell… and then… he fell again.
- Another time my mother was dropping Aviv off at his home, when tragedy struck- his foot became entangled in a Yaffa block and he was unable to unbuckle his seatbelt. In her haste, Harriet, thinking Aviv was out of the car punched the gas, sending Aviv running alongside the car, still belted, one foot in a Yaffa block, the other foot trying to keep up with the moving car.
- “Hey Sully, How much for head?” The cajun misunderstood Aviv’s question. Fascinated by a severed alligator head on display at a bayou food stand, Aviv asked, “how much for the head” Apparently he had not been the first person to ask what the cashier thought was a sexual advance… he redirected the question to the “Mac Genius” of the Louisiana crawfish stand- Sully. Sully, with all the eloquence of his dirty apron, was more like an ex-con than a resident “Mac Genius”- turned to Aviv, gave a toothless smile, and simply said, “For you, $1000.”
To the unwritten book of stories we’ve shared. To the magical serendipity of being Aviv or just being along with him for the ride. To the stories that will define our growing up. To the Platonic love affair that grew out of alphabetical order, a love for chicken wings, white lies, a panther named Smooches, diner nights and carpool mornings.