D.J. Hayes in a stylish seashell-and-jeans ensemble. Revelers danced on the corner of Sahara and Fort Apache to honor Mr. Happiness. Photo by: Aaron Thompson
As I get out of my car, the sweat begins to run down my face almost immediately. It’s rush hour on Sahara Avenue and Fort Apache Road, and normally drivers slogging through the overly packed streets are greeted by the ever-hyperactive street performer Mr. Happiness and his wide array of flamboyant outfits and broken musical instruments.
And today is, oddly enough, the now 53-year-old street performer’s birthday, giving UNLV students Matt Pedraza and Tyler Winkler an opportunity to throw a makeshift street-corner party for street entertainer.
But as Winkler and Pedraza, both dressed in tacky, god-awful suits, emerge from their cars, carrying a boom box, a guitar and their matching fedora hats, they notice that the star of the party is gone.
“Man, it would be so tragic if we missed him,” Pedraza says as he adjusts his hat and locks his car door. They gather their things and make way for the corner.
As we reach the pavement, the duo begins to rock out on the corner in true Mr. Happiness style. Stares, glares, honks and the occasional woman-getting-out-of-her-car-and-dancing-in-the-street come and go with every light cycle. Seven other friends of Winkler and Pedraza show up, turning the duo into a small street-side party of oddly dressed young weirdos dancing to oncoming traffic.
But as an hour comes and goes, Mr. Happiness still is nowhere to be found.
“We all just look like bad Mr. Happiness imitators,” says street-partier Wyatt McKenzie. “But honestly, who really cares?”