I learned that this world is bigger than me...

Some days life rolls on and on others it sort of speeds by like a bullet to the head.  Who would have ever thought that almost a year ago a Human Resource Director would leave a file on a table for everyone to read?  A bullet to the gut and then you realize the value of a man.  

The only one who stands here with me is King Lear and he by all means has no reason other than to give.  He gave his heart, his soul, his life, for what?  The King of Fools he picked up his soul and became a melody to time and his own shadow.  

Every day we wake up with the hopes that today is the day life changes.  Sometimes we wait all our lives to discover how we have failed.  No one to blame but the looking glass.  “I have no one to blame but myself!”  Not enough fingers and toes for the amount of times this has been repeated by the truth of life.  Then that day arrives, the one, the one which starts with the sound of an alarm.  Good morning!

Found myself having dinner with my son, he is finding a reason to stand tall in this life, smiles with eyes full of hope.  Being Dad has been the hardest part of my life and being one without living in the footsteps of another has changed the way I breath and walk.  Never to live without regret, standing tall with the wrong and the good of my life allows me to stitch my scars together to be one.

Today the morning started off with my insanity to yesterday.  She is gracious, loving, and hopeful in finding her way through life.  One can only applaud such intricate strength.  A mother lives to feed her child the bosom of life, to protect them from the evils that were placed upon her journey.  It is called being a mother!  

A father is to define strength, to protect the children by teaching them to not fear life.  My father taught me to stay awake.  To live to work.  And live to work my life went, my father did not fail me.  He taught me resilience, he gave me reason.  While most of my life I argued that it was my mother who taught me empathy, all along it was my father.  My mother taught me how to extend my hand.  

So what was my valuable lesson, “this world is bigger than me...”  there are people who need that extra hand to live.  I am able to breath and find my own melody in this world.  While my life now is about working to live, there is no wrong or shame in living.  To do so with the infectious love of your friends and family is what this life is above all the most priceless journey of all.

I like a nice cup of coffee and a good cigar in the morning.  Its who I have become.  The feeling of Jazz in my life is to forget that a soul put a value on what my existence was.  Last night I had what one would hope to be my final dream of that file.  In my dream the file read as such, “100 pennies is still a Dollar, however 1 penny does not buy me my sense of life.  Neither a nickel, dime, or quarter, for my life is judged in the words to live by, “Love you Dad!”

While my scatter brain often works in the most dysfunctional ways, these words are for my son Andrew.  Your worth is within your heart.  Never let anyone put a value on who you are or where you came from.  Love is all around you.  Find it in your own heart.  Find it in your family.  Find it in your friends.  But more importantly always know that I will forever love you for being Andrew.  

Mr. Alberico.

You take my breath away

A pretty bad writers block can make you go hmmm?  Even though the silence in this head has been not!  The letters and words just never seemed to have a flow.  Never one for catchy phrases or outward mobility to my thoughts, the words usually find form in my heart.  Lately the heart has been an inner voice threatening to burst from its seams.

I finally get to sit in my little terrace at Alberico Fine Wine and enjoy a cup of superman, a cigar, and Enrique Iglesias serenading the hustle and bustle of 10th and 495.  Cars running on empty, horns honking the ears off the sunrise.  The view from this private room, all mine.  

What makes today any different than yesterday?  A day older.  A day wiser.  Nah!  Today you take my breath away.  The music blends in with morning rays, and the serenity is beyond a description from this mind.  

My sense of pride with life has swelled to the point that blisters fill the heart with a wanton desire for the simple things.  Never will I long for your attention for the fight in me is to keep you sane.  When your heart aches it will be I who will reach to the sky and set straight the sun and the moon in there bitter argument for your attention.  

Today however, it is the moment of truth.  A split second from insanity, a minute of time, an hour of life, a day in my thoughts.  I love that which is the breath that escapes.  The mirror which makes me accountable.  So what does this all mean?  

In short, when I stare at you, memories wash over me much like the levy breaking.  From the time that those first words escaped my lips, to the moment after I walked off the baseball field, to the day that you stood next to me as the Doctor explained to you about my chances for another tomorrow.  The look on your face explained a love that only a Father could ever understand.

When you drove up and stood in your own quiet thoughts, it was the smile in my face of a son whose only wish was that of seeing yours.  Yes, my shinning moment.  Yes, the look of a man with callous hands from a hard days life, the weathered face of time, the soul of his father inside us both.  

“You can shave!  A haircut would also help!”  And just like that my cavities, the wrinkle of my time spread across my face.  Staring at this dream together it is in the here and now that life has come full circle, where I now understand why.

To you my father, Jose Aberico Ramos, thank you.

Ricardo “Ricky” Ramos  

Being Andy Pettitte

On June 15, 1972 in Baton Rouge, Louisiana a human being with truth was born.  Not one with a spine but with truth.  Andy Pettitte is most famously known as helping the New York Yankees in the post season, with 19 wins and more importantly 5 wins in the World Series.  This would easily qualify him as one of Marvel Comics new super hero.  

What makes Andy truly special is his life.  To many people stand on a podium and speak volumes about this and that, they preach a belief, or more importantly they speak about a righteousness that does not exist in an ounce of their bones.  This is what separates Andy from the rest of us.  

August 19, 2010 Roger Clemens gets indicted for perjury during Congressional hearings for the Mitchel Report on steroid use during his playing career.  To me this is humorous that he would be indicted for lying to what we all know are the truly professional liars, politicians.  Seriously, if a politician is moving his lips, chances are nothing coming out is the truth.  

We have become such a pompous society that we think we are superior from others.  “The corruption in Mexico is out of control.”  George W. Bush.  Seriously?  The difference between Mexico and United States is we just hide it a little better.  Over the last 30 years the price of oil in the United States has gone up twice, first under Father Bush and the next time under Jr. Bush.  This doesn’t make them guilty of any crime unless they happen to have financial gains from this.  

Now unless your head has been under the sand they are one of the largest oil families in the United States.  Does this make them guilty?  Or does this make them corrupt?  It can be spun to be beneficial.  The point is it is morally wrong that as the leaders of this country they would capitalize from an act they provoked.  Don’t get me started on Dick Chenney and Haliburton.

Irony is that it would be the Bush Family who would support whole heartedly Roger Clemens.  Did he lie?  I’m not going to go out on a plank or limb, but the answer is quite simple.  Yes!  Not because of the the trainer McNamee testimony but because of Andy Pettitte.  

This man who aspires to greatness in God and himself.  His friendship with Clemens is infamous.  They roomed together, families vacationed together, played golf together, and they were best friends.  Then Clemens expected Andy to fib.  To lie about what actually happened.  

These are life altering moments.  This is when a man can truly define the power of that word!  

I’m from a podunk community in South Texas that epitomizes small town America, where life is about watching the sun rise and the sun set.  In small towns you can’t run over the neighbors cat without it being front news in the local paper.  Least you realize the differences in opportunity.  

Not that long ago I took the time to reformulate my life; to make changes within myself to be a better person.  My days that are left in this world had to be about living to give someone a smile, so I changed.  This means that if I see wrong in life I have to speak up, I can no longer sit idle and allow people to be advantages of friends or strangers.

In my small little town there are people who are still trying to live their glory days through others.  My biggest gripe while clearly aimed at our School Board Members is a side note to the bigger problem.  Yes, we have people that once you give them a title they become power mongers.  The worst thing about this is we allow it to happen.  

Did we forget that the State saw the corruption and sent a monitor to teach us how to manage properly.  He has not been gone six months and the level of corruption is at an all time high.  I vote to eliminate the school board.  I vote that we allow the state to run our schools.  You ask why?

Simple.  I am about being fair.  I do not believe in righteousness.  I believe that if you are guilty you have to pay a penalty.  This past year has seen some incredible things occur with in the athletics department.  It has seen the schools achieve incredible heights.  The school board members would have you believe it was because of them.  I’m sorry guys.  Wake up.  

If you are having an affair its called, cheating!  If you interfere with the daily functions of a school because of your title to protect your personal interest.  Its called a conflict of interest.  If you feel your above the words of the people that voted you in, you will be ousted in the next election cycle.  

When the kids bond together to protest the decisions of a school board, we are not suppose to oppress them by sending all the administrators there to prevent them.  We are to praise them for seeing the wrong that you have gestated.  I am not Andy Pettitte by any stretch, but my children go to school here, my family works within the school district.  Yes, I care about what is going on.  Yes, I am going to make my voice heard.  

No I am not going to sit idol.  When asked if he ever saw his friend Roger Clemens do steroids Andy Pettitte’s answer was no.  When asked who introduced him to it and who claimed to be doing it, he also answered truthfully.  

The truth to this rant is such, “There are few Andy Pettitte’s in this world.  No one wakes up to be righteous.  However your voice is protected by law.  If you voice a concern, if you want to oppose the status quo, it is protected by law.  Yesterday oppression arrived in an ugly form, corruption.  Corruption by power hungry people that have lost sight of what truly matters.”  

Note:  This is not an article to promote one political party over the next.  This is about speaking the truth and injustice of what has transpired at Edcouch-Elsa.  This is about not being quiet anymore.  There is an old saying if the truth stings a little its probably because the man in the mirror is broken.  

Look Ma! No Hands!

This is an article I wrote for my mother last year for Mothers Day. In our family it became sort of a cool thing.  Mom read the article to everyone of her friends then those friends layed into their sons my friends.  So what started out as a tribute to my Mother became Rick's spiral into getting his friends pissed off at him.  

This is for all the Mothers today that have had a son like me.  One that drives you to the brink but you will always know his heart is in the right place.  Enjoy my tribute to my Mother.

John Mayer ventures to suggest that we dream with a broken heart.  He even also believes that you have to fall asleep with roses in your hand.  Can this guy just call his mother for guidance?  Yes indeed its that time of the year where we look to Ma.  We remember the first time that she kissed the boo boo or the time when she held you and told you time heals all wounds.  She meant well so make sure you buy her roses.

When Mother’s Day is upon us think of the following things, with out realizing your own mortality, this woman gave you life.  This woman suffered through the pain and agony of giving you your first breath.  This is also the woman whose soul will never judge you.  She is by far the only woman who will champion your life, right or wrong.

Its not a bad gig.  Mom.  A definition of what we all aspire but can never reach.  For instance my mother, I call her the “Tony Soprano” of the Day Care world.  Before you brilliant ones go out and call the state about this, it is meant as the highest form of flattery to my mother.  A woman whose highest level of education was the 9th grade.  She married and had four children, a boy and three girls, yes I have suffered all of my life with women.

Time never stood still for my mother, she just grew fashionably with it through the years.  She wanted to open a Day Care, I feel more out of the fact that she was all ready baby sitting all of her grandchildren while the parents went to work.  Than a desire, enter “Tony Soprano.”   “Why not make a little bit of money if I have to watch these kids?”

Then the shock of my adult life happened.  The woman who had not seen a text book in years found one to read instead of throwing it at me.  She studied and got her GED.  That was awesome.  She didn’t quit there, oh not this lady, College was next.  Years later, the woman has enough hours to not simply say she is a College student but also a sophomore add an accomplished Business Woman.

Yes this is my mother.  A lady who I don’t see as often as I should.  A woman who when I do visit, it will be an automatic conversation that starts with our typical, “And who are you?”  This is a woman who gave me my first breath.  This is a woman who a couple of years ago I asked to be my Valentine.  Yes, she called me, she explained to me her utter surprise when the flowers were delivered.  More importantly the words, “You made my day!”  No Mom, you made my life!

Now that I have explained the building up of my mother let me give you the secrets of the dark side.  Yes I am smiling and smirking, knowing full well the amount of grief that will be coming my way.  When I was 16 years of age, this genius decided to go well, drinking.  Shock!  Yeah I was a light weight even then, two beers and done.  To this day my sympathy to Oscar and Benny, wait not true, to Benny for walking me inside the house.  Oscar weenied out.

Benny was the responsible older friend who walked into the house or the boiling pot.  Inside he apologized to my mother and father for keeping me out so late.  They weren’t buying it but still at that age it showed the depth of Benny’s character.  He is a very good man.  Note to self take Benny drinking.

Back at the farm, Dad was happy I was safe and home, Mom on the other hand could smell a rat.  “Have you been drinking?”  Note to all of you, Mom’s never ask questions they all ready know the answer to.  “NO”  This was about five seconds before I ate it.  Lost my balance and well the rest as she said was history.  

Getting in trouble was not what sticks out the most from that moment, it was during the night.  She kept walking into my room to see if I was okay.  To make sure nothing bad happened to me.  The love of a mother.  In the morning when the daylight hit, she was no longer Mom, she was the warden there to punish the offender.  

Punishment came in the form of chores that well were worse than one could imagine.  My official duties of being a bus driver for my sisters began.  That in itself should have been considered corporal punishment but I learned a valuable lesson.  Its taken me my entire adult life to realize that it was in me from that day.  Be responsible.

Such a strong word.  Be responsible!  An open meaning to define at liberty.  An old tale, change your drawers in case if your in an accident.  My personal favorite, Dad teaches son to throw a baseball, teaches him how to stay off a bad pitch, how to get a jump on the pitcher to steal second.  He teaches him how to play baseball, what does the son do when the TV cameras are on him?  “Hi Ma.  Look no hands.  I love you!”  

To my mother who continues to be an inspiration.  Who defines my thoughts, my sincerity, and my obligatory heart to love.  This article is for your undying defense of my soul and heart.  I love you.  Happy Mothers Day.  Salut!

Can I have some of what he is drinking?

If in all of life’s ups and downs we resorted to the bottle then we would be a planet of inebriated souls.  I prefer to have a relevant more austere positive approach to life, so my thoughts tend to guide me in the following manner.  We are not a planet of drunks, quite the contrary we are a planet of humans who are just a sand pebble spec on the aliens that cruise the the great milky way map.  For those of you who are high, I am making a galactic reference and not one to your appetite from a drag on another form of excess.  

I really am going to just ramble here but oh well, life finds me in my backyard with a nice little glass of wine from Casanova di Nerri from Italy.  Its actually a pretty interesting wine.  It has great depth.  Fine balance between the tannins and the fruit.  It actually has achieved its peace within the bottle.  I on the other hand found my peace without thinking. 

Several days back I was on the dark side of the moon cursing the stars from far away universes trying to remember a simple password for a very important file.  I tried everything in my arsenal of weapons.  Every Van Halen album failed miserably.  Every birthdate, sports team, bottle of wine, ex, song, superhero, you name it I tried it unsuccessfully.  I was beyond miserable, I was drinking to remember.

Finally after utter and I do mean complete utter failure was ready to pack it in.  I was at “Fuck it!”  going to reboot and lose all of this information.  Then I was saved by a question, “Did you save it on your phone?”  Hello!  Genius I have never claimed, dumbass?  Absolutely.  Well now for the love of life it will never fail me, for the record my new password is, “DUMBASS”  in caps.  Just to scream at my stupidity.

During this priceless moment or rather delay of my time here on this planet, started thinking about what keeps us company?  Some simple answers, family, friends, sports, books, this idiotic blog, but ultimately the answer is in the mirror.  We keep ourselves company!  Some people fantasize about things that are beyond reason and some live with out reason.  At the end of the day, much like tonight my thoughts are always the same.  

Right before I walked inside the house, took a moment to stare at the sky and realized that my stars have always been aligned.  Realized that there is an alien from Omega Centauri looking at his stars to see if they are aligned and taking a sip from his sauce and quietly toasting his life.   

Much like my friend from Omega here is my open letter of thought or simply put what occupies the space between my ears.  “............................

Salut.

The color of my life...

Grabbed a cup of superman, found the appropriate cigar, sunglasses, flip flops on, walked outside to my sunrise.  Blue sky, clear of any clouds, a slight breeze, the jagged smile of last nights thoughts.  I wasn’t waiting on a flight, was searching for a warm embrace to time.  Staring at the sky it is obvious that there are reds, whites, purples, and an array of other rainbow colors associated with a sky.  What was this day going to be like?

Just last night was contemplating the signs of the times and I realized how much the warmth of an embrace can etch the fear of life in one.  Of course there is great joy when innocence is established.  Some people wrap their soul around you and one can feel it run through your soul much like the ivy crawls up the chapel walls.  Your heart fills with the blisters of love when this happens.  

Then of course there is the eruption of the gas main embrace, where your dammed if you do and dammed if you don’t.  If a person is cutting onions and tears are running down the face, is it because of the burn of the onion or the burn of life?  Can one live within the truth of time?  Honestly live within the piel that has been bestowed on them?  Okay maybe to harsh.  

Drink a glass of truth, albeit your truth!  Last night my truth was in a glass of single barrel jack, on the rocks, with a twist of lemon.  It spoke volumes to the way you miss someone when they are gone.  The sounds of the night was a symphony in A minor.  It was mesmerizing!  The night was driving me insanely crazy, acutely aware that your presence had faded from my thoughts in a surreal manner.

“Can I see the wine menu?”

Peace of mind is knowing that in a great bottle of wine I can cure the bruised and battered sketches of my life.  With each swirl, you attempt to find the strokes of life.  I can easily unwrap the words that have escaped my emotions.  “You know what?  I don’t know shit about wine but feel like drinking a good bottle of wine.  Impress me.”  The waiter looked at me as if there was a great conspiracy about to happen.

This child walked back and probably searched the wine cellar for something wondering or as I romantically would rather perceive cursing my ass out, he grabbed the first bottle that he could.  Was hoping he did so with out thought to every breath that I take.  Returning the child was now a boy, who dared to show me the bottle.  It made sense, since he was growing up in front of my arrogant ass.

He poured the glass and stared at me not for appreciation for what he had just chosen but for he was now a king amongst men.   “What do you think?”  The words were like a rainbow of colors, his blue was not within him.  His red was lost in thought walking back to the cellar.  The white of his soul was that he was going to pick the most expensive bottle for the arrogant asshole on table 3.  Purple would just signify the confidence of a King.  

It was his rainbow of thoughts that spread across my canvas.  “Why this bottle?” A wicked smile crossed his face.  You could tell that time had not a hair nor pin of a crinkle in his smile.  His confidence was dripping from those words, “Its money every time...Can’t go wrong unless your Rick Ramos.”

I smiled, and my blue sky this morning suddenly had an array of those colors.  The red from last nights was still painted in my heart.  My white was the glare of the right or wrong of time.  Purple was my love for life.  As for my rainbow, it was in a bottle of all things, Queen of Hearts Pinot Noir, irony has a new name.

So here I find myself 24/7 later editing words, changing the soul from a man who loves a clear blue sky but is okay if its cloudy with a storm on the horizon.  As for the wine, it had deep blue berry flavors with a hint of red burgundy color to it.  With the white spice of time, yet the enduring patience of a purple landscape.  The child became a boy who became a king amongst men.  

“So what do you think?”

“Not bad.  Good choice.  Tomorrow I’m going to Sherman Williams to buy the colors of my life.  As for Rick Ramos, don’t worry, he’s an asshole.”  My tab was 126.00 for a glass of thoughts and a bottle of love.  The tip was 100.00 for understanding what a Pinot Noir means to me.  His bruised soul looked at me, a smile crossed his soul, and asked, “What’s your name?”

Santé

How goes it Sunshine?

After walking off the clouds this morning and into a jet plane trying to out run the sunrise, life became a little bit simple.  This will arguably be my Picaso.  My Symphony #5.  It will be my P. Diddy or is it Puffy Combs.  Who knows and who cares when a guy can’t just say his name is Carl or Tom or Bob for that matter.  We speak in tongues sometimes and if you add a little alcohol I speak spanish as well.  Some will argue its not Spanish...but its not their Blog.

There is this bottle of wine I covet.  It is not hard to acquire, just down right irresponsible.  Many moons ago on the 5th of a day, crawling out of the dungeon of time a man inquired about his demons.  In walking out he dragged his feet so that he could prolong the memory.  It was calculated one step in front of the other.  He was not sleep walking,  he had just woken from the slumber of time.  He was stuck.

Empowered he gave reason to things and pulled up his dictionary to find out what it meant to lose.  What he saw appalled him.  There was no definition, no regard to meaning, instead, there in black and white was his picture.  He didn’t take a second glance, didn’t have to.  The moon had long ago left the reflection of the night with someone else.  He crawled into a corner to find a reason.

Domaine Romanee Conti La Tache 1996!  She became the obsession, the joy of his soul.  He never stopped loving her, she fit in his heart but now it was time to find another bottle to grace his lips.  Sure one day he would again open that bottle and he would enjoy the fruits of her time, just not now.  Maybe not tomorrow or maybe just never.  Ravished by this wanton desire to find his grail of truth, he continued to search.

There in the middle of a land so beautiful all he could do while driving in silence was scream at the pure beauty.   The rearview mirror showed him the shades of the day he knew he could let a bottle breath, but could he?   Time to realize those demons, the sunlight was escaping, it was taking his heart, he needed all of this to go away, he needed to open up to life.

Walking into the cellar of this man, this God who had given birth to life, he was stitched in silence watching him as he explained every intricate detail about his creation.  The excitement was that of an adolescent who just discovered the Sears Lingerie section.  A perversion to watch something so personal.  Stimulating as it was, he could not wonder about her.  Would she be okay?  Would she understand his excitement?  Would she scream like never before?  Would she ever run to the top of a mountain and scream at the world, “I love you.”

He opened her house and like a thief in the night, gently she succumb to his presence.  She was exquisite.  Gentle and graceful, her legs were difficult to fathom.  Her lagrimas could drive a man crazy.  Why me?  Why did God put your soul in front of me?  What did I do to deserve you?

Rich, vibrant, her perfume was intoxicating.  While jealousy is not within me she could drive a man into an asylum of thoughts.  I didn’t covet her, she had to be mine.  Impossible and surreal as it all seems, he began to speak, “she is my lover.”  We were one and the same this new friend of mine.  I excused myself from the room.  Walked out into the darkness to explain my life.  “This will define the rest of my life!”  Did she listen to the words as they dripped from inside of me? 

One day it will be written that on this glorious day of eternity my heart skipped a beat with your answer.  For you did steal my soul.  You ravished it and became diligent to its existence.  “I want you.  I want all of you.  I don’t want to share you with anyone.  I want to make sure that the world understands the way you move.  I want to steal you from your creator.  How you dance in the glass as he holds you tight.  My heart melts with an insane jealousy.  You have become my endless love.”

Later that night his chest hurt.  It pounded the night sky into tiny little stars with one shinning brighter than all the rest.  He had to tell her.  So he stumbled with his words and somewhere in the middle of his emotion, he remembered.  “Your kind of love is forever.”  

It was a day of drinking.  It was a day of celebration.  Was she that good?  He defined her by being oblivious and kind.  He made sure to tell her she was not important to him.  After all he had his Domaine Romanee Conti La Tache 1996 to dream about.  Then finally he said, “enough!”  After allowing her some time to be idle and unbothered he took his camera and took her picture.  He loved it.  She loathed it.

The lipstick stained glass, had color again, her terroir was silky, she was sessy.  She found her new lover and it made her scream for attention.  Then he poured her into a beer glass.  He still would not give her the time of day.  She breathed life into him.  His solitude new she was the one.  His soul new to run fast.  He picked up the phone, “You have no idea how beautiful she is.  I stare at her and she enthralls me in silence.  Meet me down stairs.”

Who will explain to me that she is not mine?  Without thinking about reality, my steps were slower and more devout of energy.  At any moment she would walk away, she had crawled into the heart and now had found her own reason to exist.  “So what do you think?”  I asked? 

I’m always in the habit of making two toast.  A funny one and a serious one.  First the serious one, “Time will give me an eternal flame of love.  It will also teach me to live.  Life will show me the scars.  And only the sunset can heal them.”  And now the funny one, “What did you guys think?  Seriously?  I’m in love with a bottle of wine that has a name...that in itself requires therapy.  So hurry somebody get me a bottle of Domaine Romanee Conti 2006!  As for her name...soon”

Never forget where your came from. Never forget that you could fly. Never forget a sunrise. Never forget a sunset.

There I was sitting at the bar inside Terminal 2 at the Benito Juarez Airport in Mexico City enjoying a Jack, Mineral Water, and a splash of Coke Cola for color.  A very important soccer game was on the screen.  Couldn’t tell you who was playing but the standing room only crowd probably could have.  They gasped with every errant shot and screamed when a goal was made, it was a scene straight from a Victor Fleming movie.  

I started writing down words that best described my mood, there was incredible joy mixed with a sense of not.  The first thing that popped in my mind were words put together to have a definition.  “No one gives a shit about what the sky looks like when the sun sets!”  It wasn’t that it disturbed me, more to the fact of how we fail to see what is in front of us.  

Inherent are the days when two people are together and fail to see what surrounds them.  The fear of danger dissipates by the bond of those seconds.  Do we deserve those seconds?  We learn to appreciate those seconds years later when they don’t exist.  To learn the quirks of another human being is not love but rather the difference between wanting and deserving.  Much can be said about love.  I have seen it come and go and have run away from it.  The love that surrounds me is greater than who I am.  

What can one give someone rich with love in their heart?  Seconds. Minutes.  Hours. Moments.  A river that flows into the open arms of the ocean is my cathedral of time.  Endless!  No longer do I need to forgive myself for yesterday because today love is within me!  

There was a day not that long ago inside a room with cold white walls.  Sitting idle in the corner with my thoughts of yesterday as my father fought for his life.  In those moments so much of who I was then, was destroyed.  It was a moment where loneliness found its way into my heart.  In my idle time little by little the layers of who I was were peeled one by one until there was nothing left.  

The moments of uncertainty enlightened me to forgive.  

When the good Doctor came out he sat and grabbed my mothers hand.  Fear instantly found its way into my soul.  Then he spoke of the recovery, he spoke of the strength of this old man.  How he would live another day to bust my balls.  I walked with my friend away from my family and asked as only a friend could ask, “How will he really be?”  

My father lost a couple of seconds of his life to only gain moments with his family.  To cherish those words is beyond reason.  I remember walking outside, standing, staring at the blue sky, with tears in my eyes, realizing how beautiful life was.  It was one of the most beautiful sunrises I had ever witnessed.  

One by one the clouds would come together to form a heart.  There within me was this great love.  There within me was this great responsibility.  Suddenly I was my father.  Going back in my thoughts the sky started to clear of the clouds and suddenly my soul would find a reason when it needed and would be wounded when alone.  

This dubious life within and the struggle to live allowed the darkness to hover over me.  Its face was deep within my bowels.  How could I be the one to carry a torch of life when my own was with out words.  My friends found a reason for me.  Never one to be anyones hero, mine was a heroine.  This simple incredible woman, one who would stand by me forever sensed my hurt.  She of all people could never be nothing but great in my soul.  

I suddenly found myself again.  Nothing mattered anymore but then again her simple words gave me direction.  Life became infinite again.  Now when the smoke of my cigar found its way to the sky it created the clouds that my finger could design into a smile.  My blue sky grey was now a rainbow of lights, my home was no longer my prisoner.  My glass was once again half filled.  

Tonight I sit outside with my cigar and this glass of wine.  The voice inside me is that my sunset is clear.  To run away from it is laughable now.  You can’t escape your own demons you can claim foul but there will always be a Kristie Alexander in this world.  A woman with a heart of gold and uncanny ability to just tell you that life sometimes does get in the way.  So we find a different route.  

Thank you and cheers to my friend Kristie Alexander for finding some unknown reason that day to call me.  To make me realize what life is.  Today I find myself flying again and with the confidence that had left me.  You my friend deserve a million cases of PG...  

My Matias...

Woke up feeling invincible.  Stretched the arms in a V.  Took a deep breath and felt my wings expand.  Arms were open for the love of a brand new day but fearlessly the memory of the day before came crashing down.  If memory serves me well, the tears from laughing, the permanent smile, the thought of running from crazy all were imbedded in the moment.

A smile spread across with abandon with no reason.  We obsessed about bowel movements and a human beings ability to memorize things.  It wasn’t until BY 849 MQ came out that tears and laughter overcame me.  Forget that this unknown woman from Spain was being called crazy, or pendeja it was that we all in some shape or form agreed.  Who are we to define normalcy.  

Sometimes I write bits and pieces of life, gathered much like a puddle collects water.  At times very much like you, I find myself asking, “Rick what the fuck are you talking about?”  Honestly at some point and time there was a purpose.  LMFAO

Reading quite a bit as of late, recently, the brilliance of Jobs, the insanity of Van Gogh, Da Vinci’s Ghost, but its Tessel the Stripper that intrigues me most.  Trust me, there is literature in all of them.  One deals with respect to create while another prolongs our deepest desire to understand crazy.  Its amazing that even now we don’t understand the brilliance of Da Vinci.  Then of course there is our self absorbed presumptuous attitude to women who make a living on a pole. 

My perverted sense of morality allows me to inform you that most strippers are Pre-Med or Pre-Law.  What did you expect?  Seriously?  It’s women that make men go ape shit.  Wait!  Sorry! Its the crazy women, not all women.  Well maybe all.  As a man I have tendencies to be both harsh and yet eloquently empathetic to women.  Forgive me for I have seen the vile of this world and have been out drank by a girl in 6 inch stilettos at one time or another.  

If you were to ever ask a man, “Have you ever been to a Strip Club?” and there answer is no.  It is not because they are lying, its because our moral sense of obligation is to keep you women from going crazy.  For the record this has become a rant.  Have no clue where this is going.  It started about my Matias (pronounced M-a - Teyeas) and has now run amuck.

So I find myself in the motherland of wine, trying to define crazy!  Vino from the bowels of time yet to be discovered by this wretched soul.  One with a blatant disregard for the norm.  A simple glass created by a sincere man who is his families fifth generation of greatness.  I dare to ask him, “what is your greatest achievement?”  The answer elegantly spoken, his daughters walking in his families footsteps.

Swirling his magical glass of wine, I took time to stair into her eyes.  Her definition was Pinot Noir, princess, woman, and lover and yet she had with-in her a dubious desire to breath.  Temperamental, spicy, salt of the earth, soave, seductive, and painfully beautiful.  She was without words or expression.  Fear set in, how could such an oxymoron of flavors be encapsulated in one person?  

The glass sat idle.  I could here her breathing.  It was beyond the definition of any soul much less mine.  Quietly she was expressing herself.  She laughed.  She smiled.  She was full of wanton desire.  Her truth was melting my soul and slowly she met my lips.  Did she know where she was from?  Did she care?  I felt her touch, her warmth, indeed she was making me crazy.

Ironically after all of these years my tendencies are to point out the similarities between a Woman and Pinot Noir.  In time they have become one.   The fact that women who tend to love Pinot Noir are devastating creatures of thought scares me more than a bottle of Alexana.

My deep dark secret lady of thought continues...only she and I.  Maybe one day.  Maybe someday.  Maybe tomorrow I will share with all of you what crazy is to me but tonight its just you and me and this last glass of Jack (the bar ran out after having me here for 8 days).  The Beef Tartar reminds me to breath.  Then again it was the “hey not there means hey not there!” that made us all laugh even more.  Sante’  

Interesting Morning Sunshine

Crawling out of bed there were parts of my body that screamed 45.  It was the mere fact that yesterday my body once again felt like it was 30 that mesmerized the smell of my coffee.  Most people often wonder why others do the things they do.  As amazing as it sounds guess I am not ‘most’ people.  We all often find a reason to exist and within this is our own definition.  It makes sense to no one but you and at that precise moment we really don’t think of anyone else.

These days I like sitting outside with my morning cup of coffee and a cigar.  Maybe, just maybe the cigar will one day kill me and if that were to ever happen then I know that playing dodge ball with life was the easier task.  The task of living has been so simplistic that only when the flaming stars fall from the sky does life’s shinning light dim a bit.  

Coffee has a way of making the mind function when cobwebs are still being used to keep me intact.  To make matters worse the smoke tends to hide the scars from last nights glass of thought.  Typical of any man or rather ‘most’ men the music blares just a bit to find a different emotion to the one that actually is apparent.

Yes dear women of this world, all men, not ‘most’ men will always find a different road for you to journey while we figure this shit out.  We are never lost!  Its just the last time we were here the house on the corner was a pink one.  Okay a little side note, I love John Cougar.  No one has greater poetry than this small town boy.  Even within his great poetry this man was not lost.  The record company made him do it, congrats Mr. Mellencamp.

Yesterday was today, and tomorrow will be today, and yet today will be yesterday, tomorrow!  Confused yet?  Now you understand why I drink!  Sitting here under my 1800 Tequila umbrella, note to self, “get ahold of my Brother Cain and ask him for a Dulce Vida Tequila outdoor umbrella” I see the sky in an almost time lapse work of art.  It has shades of yesterday.  Yet it screams the blues of tomorrow.  However it always laughs at melancholy with the bright rays of the sun.

Being an election year why not piss everybody off and just claim complete and utter independence from the norm.  I think Sarah Palin should just run for office.  Why not?  If stupidity has a face its in those people who honestly believe this woman has a brain.  During these quiet moments of reflection life comes to me in wanton thoughts.  I for one will vote for Tina Fey.  A much better Sarah Palin than the real one.  We have empowered simpler minds, why not?  

“Daddy why do you like your coffee?”  What was amazingly funny was the innocence of the question.  Even my four year old daughter new that her Dad has an affinity for his liquid sweet life.  “Well mammas, because it smells like cherries, with a little bit of chocolate, has some minerals that define its mother.  Somewhere in there are the secrets to my life.”  It was evident at this point that my daughter had obvious confusion about the difference between Superman and Batman.  

“Mammas in 1996 the great house of Chateau Margaux created a sunshine of hope.  They bottled it and tonight your Daddy is going to realize how good this coffee really is.”  With the smile and the innocence of ‘I don’t want to go to bed yet’ “ Daddy, I love you!”  

Now while the sunshines on this glorious morning and my little garden of life embraces the rays of time I raise my Superman cup and give a Salut to Juan Valdez for creating words.  Last night it was my Batman glass of Chateau Margaux 1996 that gave me peace of mind.  As for the rest of you, wake up!  Its time you find a reason.

Rick

Mi Alma

In my life you will always be my soul...How I miss you.  

Been up and down the streets of Broadway...

Looking at the tired callus feet of mine it has come to my immediate attention that they have walked the sidewalks of life a couple of times.  They have seen the cobble stone walk ways of ancient cities in Europe and the sacred stones inside the grand Cathedrals of Spain.  While also being pedestrian with the day in my life.  What have they learned?  

 Its been a couple of days since my brain began spinning its wheel with a gestation of thought.  Along with a glass of wine and cigar began to conceive all that was inside.  Read a caption in a picture that depicted a man as a liar, where his private words were used to make a conscious fight to some ones inner struggle to not accept their failure.  It wasn’t bothersome at first, it was quite comical actually, but after defining the concept I came up with this silly analogy of words.

What type of person would put a picture of something so personal?  At first maybe someone who was hurt.  Maybe even someone who was betrayed.  Then the words just came in a tsunami of letters, commas, adjectives, verbs, nouns, pronouns, and exclamation points.  It didn’t matter, vindictive or heart broken it was wrong.  I thought to myself how many times my heart has been broken and how many times it went into the shop for a tune up, you just don’t do that to people.  

I decided that somewhere a picture would exist that would make me realize that my walk about had seen kinder things and nicer people.  There it was in my backyard.  Several weeks ago in my back ass mentality to elevate my soul and thoughts and find the road to serenity I planted a garden.  My little garden of life as it is affectionately called.  

At first the worry was nothing was growing.  Just maybe my thumb was not green or worse yet maybe life was not that forgiving to my path.  Then one morning walking out in blue scrub pants, taliban shoes, and superman t-shirt with a cup of coffee and a book of words, there it was!  Perfection!  There was life inside of me after all.  So I took a picture and created my own journey.

You ask yourself what does one have to do with the other?  Nothing.  Just the point of life after all continues.  In the past couple of weeks been searching the web for pictures of chairs, stools, tables, designs of this or that to carve out a new trail.  In the process found useless pictures, stories that made me smile and cry, and more than anything washed and cleansed memories of yesterday.  

“First thing I have to do is fix it!”  Too many times one reads much into these words and honestly they are not cryptic or have a meaning, they are just a thought of one word or one picture.  I find myself walking the streets these days with a smile, I look up and don’t see a dark cloud hovering waiting to rain on my parade.  Yesterday I overheard someone talk badly about a friend.  Most people avoid confrontation and say nothing.  I am a friend.  I told the person being vile, “Obviously your an idiot.  Fuck you.  You have no clue.  None!”  

Honestly, I don’t either!  But no one steals my heart away and tramples it.  No one cheats and cries wolf.  No one cries blood red tears about my friends because I become paternal and fight like a mother hen.  As we were walking to the car, “Why did you do that?”  was asked.  

“Because in life my feet have walked a thousand miles to nowhere to find my soul.  In that journey I have found people who are etched in my heart and discovered souls who have become my blood.  While the honesty of life is sometimes cruel it is within yourself to discover the vile inside of you.  It is not for someone to decimate who you are.  An old saying, never judge someone unless you have walked in their shoes.  Well here is a new one from me, never attempt to think that you know what the tattered worn shoes of mine feel like.  If you understand this I won’t make the same mistake.”

When I got back to the office I was reminiscing about where life’s road had taken me.  What the earth underneath my feet had to say about the day.  I turned on the computer to write this and found the funniest saying, “By the power vested in ME, I now Pronounce You DELETED and BLOCKED.  You May Now Kiss My Ass!  Irony.

Let the journey continue...

a toast from my dixie cup...

woke up this morning about 2am, walked to the bathroom washed my face.  there in the reflection were my days.  the lines of time stood quite still.  white hair escaping asking for attention from the dishelved hair.  grungy prickly facial hair trying to  hide the fact that somewhere time forgot about  them because hidden amongst my youth was history.

last night before i ventured into the land of nightmares and dreams a simple cup of wine touched my lips.  it was an amazing piece of time standing still.  chateau gloria 2009, both big and robust, yet somewhere in there a classy sense of self.  she bled burgundy all over my lips.  her skin was a smooth as velvet.  as comforting as a mother’s bosom to her baby.  she poured her soul into mine.  it was indeed just enough to enrich this mind that sometimes needs more than just a bit of wine...

the news spoke of violence.  they spoke of tragedy.  they whispered pain.  yet they could not find peace of heart.  i changed the channel.  what if life was that simple?  picked up the newspaper to take the spinning wheel away from yesterdays mishaps.  it too screamed of the seal of love being broken by someones ignorance.  someones inability to think!

you ever notice that after, way after the fact, you always scold your thoughts by acknowledging to yourself that you shouldn’t have done that.  hindsight my ass...ignorance is bliss, my ass.  one second.  all it takes is one second.  ‘i can’t remember much of last night, been that way for almost 15 years.”  guess what?  it is a song.  

don’t tolerate mediocrity.  its unacceptable.  expect excellence.

fell asleep around 4 after i realized how lucky some people are or how downright delusional.  not sure which one came first.  this ones gonna hurt a bit.  sticks and stones don’t break but they burn somewhat.  not sure where the train got derailed but it did.  the fire was gone...extinguished.  thankfully an ember lay burning and then my thoughts engulfed it into a burning tower inferno.  

love doesn’t let you decide it allows you to live.  you have to have it in your heart.  if it takes a vacation make sure you keep track of where it went.  its what separates you from the ones who crawl.  if kryptonite was superman’s downfall then my heart is mine.  finally got tired of living how i had been.  got a dixie cup and poured myself some wine.

now this morning i’m up with a thought.  guess i’m doing fine.  a smile spread across my face.  carefree from making a mistake.  don’t care if i bleed a little a long the way.  don’t need someones prayer to help me realize.  i just need the love that bleeds through my vines.  the one that can pour a sense of perfection into my glass that no longer is an empty glass of pain.  

alarming as it seems, that glass was always half full.  somewhere it just became the bottom of an empty glass of hurt.  last nights dixie cup was left with the stain of my thoughts.  and it was laughing with me...”sometimes it right there in front of you and you don’t realize it.”  

amazing was not the first cup of wine but the second one.  it seemed like a dirt road that was a million miles away.  minerals.  a bit of rain.  darkness from the clouds giving a taste of fruit.  it was provocative, sexy, she wore a loin cloth that revealed a cleavage that caught my eye.  she wasn’t big but she wasn’t small.  she had the whole world distinguishing itself in a cup of truth.  

if life indeed was a cup of wine it would be elegant, classy, big, robust, it would sit next to me and we would not be able to see through it.  no, it would stop us from running and grab us by the heart and just have a conversation with us.  we could hear the music.  the words would have our undivided attention.  

its 7 am and insomnia continues to be my lover.  she is restless.  she is kind when i need her to be kind but she is a woman.  she expects me to run and not crawl or walk.  the coffee percolates.  it fills my soul with a different thought.  but last night i toasted these thoughts to life with a dixie cup.  “i can no longer expect myself to crawl.  walking is unacceptable.  running away is not the answer.  so instead ‘i will walk the pavements’ and hold the hand to my soul, my lover,  my thoughts as the world catches up to me...salut!