Thinking of My Buddy Steve Today ...... Beautiful day here today. Had some rough weather come through Sunday, but you'd hardly know it today.
Got the Grapes and Berries planted and laid out the planting sites for the new trees. Ordered some top soil that should be here in a day or two. I really need that soil for planting the new trees. I plan on raising them up some when I plant because the drainage sucks so bad on this soil.
Anyway, I got to thinking of my Bestest Buddy ever, Steve who past away 2 years ago. We'd have been out riding motorcycles on a nice Spring day like this.
So I'm gonna repost a story I wrote several years ago about him.
Originally posted December 2006. There's another good, Steve Story at the link.
No Really, I Don't Want to Buy a Damn Flower ..........
No, This post has absolutely nothing to do with Billy Idol. The picture just makes me laugh.
I can picture him doing a Christmas special. Ok, maybe not.
Anyway -
I've written HERE before about my Bestest Buddy, Steve. The only person I've ever seen get run over by his own motorcycle. Yeah, that's an accomplishment most Riders can't brag about.
I was out in the Garage a bit ago smoking. It's really nasty outside tonight and it reminded me of a night a long time ago when Steve and I were on a rode trip with similar weather ................
We'd already been riding for 2 weeks up into and around in Canada and had crossed back into the States at buffalo, NY. We were on our way to West Virginia to see his family there and We'd already had a shit load of good times. Even though it had rained for the first eight days of the trip we'd had a great time already and it looked as if the weather was gonna improve. It was bright and sunny that morning as we came through Customs and re-entered the States.
Then we ended up on that G-D Awful, Toll Road around Buffalo. Holy Crap! A toll Booth every 30 - 40 yards! We spent all of our breakfast money in the first 4-5 miles on tolls. That's when I saw a sign heading South.
A big Green Sign and an Arrow, saying "New Rochelle". Well, Shit. Laura Petrey? Dick VanDyke? Hell, that's all we needed to see after the Toll Road of Buffalo. South it is!
It turned out that Hwy 62 was a hell of a nice ride. I really don't know if we even went through New Rochelle, NY. Didn't matter. The weather was great and the road was nice (At least it was way back then). We had a great ride across New York and into Pennsylvania.
Then the weather went to shit. Started raining and the temperature dropped into the low 40's. Now, I'll bet Hwy 62 is a hell of a nice ride in Penn. It follows the Allegheny River and is curvy and I'm sure, it's fun to ride in good weather and daylight.
It was friggen' miserable that night. Neither of us had decent rain gear and we were soaked and freezing. I mean COLD. We kept pushing on. Mostly because we were to stupid to stop, but there wasn't any place to stop anyway, for what seemed like forever.
We finally ended up in Oil City, Pennsylvania. We pulled into a 7-11 type Gasso, to fill up and warm up. We topped off the bikes and headed inside to get some coffee and warm up. Standing outside of this place was a Moonie selling flowers. I never see Moonies anymore, but there were a lot of them around then.
He tried to sell us each a flower by getting between us and the door. We both growled, pushed him out of the way and kept heading towards the coffee, figuring we needed that more than a damn flower.
We hung out inside warming up, till the clerk started getting nervous. We then went outside and Damn, that Asshole Moonie, tried to sell us a flower AGAIN.
Knowing Steve like I do, when he put on his Game Face and told that guy, "You bother Me one more time about those Flowers, I'm gonna Fuck You up" - I knew what was coming.
Sure enough. Not 2 minutes later, Moonie Boy came back hitting us up to buy a flower. Steve and I both had a coffee in one hand and a doughnut in the other. Steve calmly put the doughnut in his mouth and .............................. WHAM!! He blasted Moonie Boy right in the chops.
Flowers, teeth and Moonie Boy flyin' everywhere. Damn, it hurt me just seeing him land 4-5 feet from where he was standing. He was just laying there, spread eagle on the ground. Out like a light. Flowers all over him. Bleeding. It was beautiful.
Then the Cop, who had been parked in the alley walked up. SHIT.
He looked at Moonie Boy. He looked at us.
Back at Moonie Boy. Back at us.
Nobody said a word for what seemed like a loooooong time. The Cop just kept looking back and forth between us and what was rapidly becoming, in my mind, an Abstract Art exhibit titled - "Moonie Boy with Bloody Flowers in the Rain".
Neither Steve or I wanted to say a damn word. We just stood there holding our breath. I was thinking to myself, "Well at least it'll be warmer in jail than where we've been tonight".
Finally, the Cop says to Steve - "I told him not to bother you two". And he calmly walked back to his car and called for EMS to come pick up the "Art Exhibit" still bleeding in the parking lot.
"You Boys Had Best Just Move On" ..... Or so said the Police Officer.
In the comments to my post Thinking of My Buddy Steve Today, two of my brothers mentioned some Steve things that got my memory going & this was one of them.
Steve and I needed a roadtrip. Unfortunately, my motorcycle was tore up and out of commission. Being young and dumb and not adverse to unconventional thinking, we decided that we'd just double up on his bike and go.
So we loaded our camping shit in a big duffel bag, strapped in on his little Yamaha and we headed North to Michigan. No real destination in mind, we just figured we'd find the right place when we got there. What could go wrong?
We rode for several hours and stopped for lunch and a beer at a little Tavern on the main street of a little town. Well, as it usually seemed to go, 1 beer turned into 8-10 beers and several hours later we stumbled out the back door.
We saddled up and pulled out of the lot and up the ally to the main street to continue on our trek.
That's when things started going South instead.
Seems there was an annual event around this place called "Rodeo Days" and Steve and I were just lucky enough to be there for the big, kickoff parade.
And when we exited the ally onto Main street to head North, we landed right in the middle of the parade.
I think we were behind the High School Band but I'm not sure.
One of us probably should have noticed that the traffic was just a bit heavier and taking up both lanes in a one way pattern, but the Beer Navigation System was pretty well engaged by then and since all that traffic was going the direction we were wanting to go ...... Steve just fell right in like he belonged there. I was starting to freakout and Steve just said, "Wave Dumbass". So that's what I did.
People were waving back and smiling so it was all good as we rode along with the parade to the next block and exited the parade route, laughing like a couple of retards.
Unfortunately, there was a City Cop right there and our mirth was cut short when he pointed at us and told us to pull over.
Shit. Now I have this bad habit of laughing at inappropriate times and if anything qualified as an inappropriate time to be laughing uncontrollably it was when that Cop started chewing our asses.
Steve kept telling me to shut the hell up and that Cop was getting louder by the second and I just couldn't keep from laughing. I knew we were gonna go straight to jail and that this shit wasn't funny at all, but damn if I could help it.
About then the Cop says to Steve, "You boys had just better move on" and said, "Follow me" as he headed to his car. Since he hadn't even asked for our ID, I know Steve was thinking about ducking and running at the first chance when he told me to "Hang on". Not a good idea on a seriously overloaded 400cc Yamaha and I was hoping that somehow we were gonna get our asses out of this mess.
We fell in behind the Cop car and he led us down some side streets in a Northerly direction. I was thinking he was leading us right to the Jail as a convenience factor for him, but instead, he took us about 8 blocks right back to the road we wanted.
He stopped and came back and chewed our asses for a few more minutes and said something about " In 20 years never having to write a ticket for Parading without a permit". I started up laughing again as soon as he said that and he gave me one of those looks that meant "I am gonna kick your ass, Hippy" and that took care of anymore of the inappropriate laughter from me.
Having made his point with me, he looked at Steve and pointed North and said, to "Get the hell out of here and don't come back."
So that's what we did.
That was the first of two times that we were escorted out of town by the cops. I'll tell ya about the other time later.
"Tire tracks all across your back, I can see you've had your fun...."
OK, apologies to Jimi Hendrix for stealing that line.
Anyway, My Bestest Buddy is Steve. We've known each other for ..... 35 years maybe? Lots of the goofy shit I've ever been involved in had Steve in the picture somewhere. Steve and I rode motorcycles together constantly for years. We're both pretty good riders and we both always seemed to have pretty comparable bikes. So it was always good tight competition between us when we rode together. We were both a couple of squirrels and drove like idiots on a daily basis.
The one thing I never learned to do well was wheelie. But Steve could. He'd pull it up and keep it on the back wheel real well & real cool.
I was pumping gas at the local Texaco station one afternoon when here comes Steve on his Kawasaki 250. He whips around the corner and stands it up. Shifts into 2nd while up on the rear wheel. WooHoo!! Lookin' good.
Except Georges dog decided to cross the street at about the time Steve pulled around the corner! George lived across the street from the Texaco and his dog was a curly haired, little Bastard mix about knee high.
It was beautiful. Steve hit that dog and that Kawasaki pitched forward and sent Steve over the front and into the street rolling. The Dog hauled ass home and didn't look any worse for wear.
Steve ended up flat on his face spread eagle on the street. Ordinarily, that would have been funny enough but by a strange confluence of luck, physics and karma, Steve's bike was still upright and hadn't fallen over .......... yet. It did eventually fall over. But not till it had run over Steve first.
I was pumping gas into a pickup truck and the driver and I both went from wondering if he was hurt bad to laughing our asses off immediately. Could not help it. As luck would have it, Steve, the motorcycle and the Dog were all ok.
When I got to Steve he was still in the street, face down. And right across his white shirt was a big tire track from his own motorcycle! I'm sure that if Steve had been able to breath right then he'd have pounded me into the pavement for laughing like I was, but hell, How could I not?
He's the only guy I know who has been run over by his own motorcycle.
No Really, I Don't Want to Buy a Damn Flower ..........
No, This post has absolutely nothing to do with Billy Idol. The picture just makes me laugh.
I can picture him doing a Christmas special. Ok, maybe not.
Anyway -
I've written HERE before about my Bestest Buddy, Steve. The only person I've ever seen get run over by his own motorcycle. Yeah, that's an accomplishment most Riders can't brag about.
I was out in the Garage a bit ago smoking. It's really nasty outside tonight and it reminded me of a night a long time ago when Steve and I were on a rode trip with similar weather ................
We'd already been riding for 2 weeks up into and around in Canada and had crossed back into the States at buffalo, NY. We were on our way to West Virginia to see his family there and We'd already had a shit load of good times. Even though it had rained for the first eight days of the trip we'd had a great time already and it looked as if the weather was gonna improve. It was bright and sunny that morning as we came through Customs and re-entered the States.
Then we ended up on that G-D Awful, Toll Road around Buffalo. Holy Crap! A toll Booth every 30 - 40 yards! We spent all of our breakfast money in the first 4-5 miles on tolls. That's when I saw a sign heading South.
A big Green Sign and an Arrow, saying "New Rochelle". Well, Shit. Laura Petrey? Dick VanDyke? Hell, that's all we needed to see after the Toll Road of Buffalo. South it is!
It turned out that Hwy 62 was a hell of a nice ride. I really don't know if we even went through New Rochelle, NY. Didn't matter. The weather was great and the road was nice (At least it was way back then). We had a great ride across New York and into Pennsylvania.
Then the weather went to shit. Started raining and the temperature dropped into the low 40's. Now, I'll bet Hwy 62 is a hell of a nice ride in Penn. It follows the Allegheny River and is curvy and I'm sure, it's fun to ride in good weather and daylight.
It was friggen' miserable that night. Neither of us had decent rain gear and we were soaked and freezing. I mean COLD. We kept pushing on. Mostly because we were to stupid to stop, but there wasn't any place to stop anyway, for what seemed like forever.
We finally ended up in Oil City, Pennsylvania. We pulled into a 7-11 type Gasso, to fill up and warm up. We topped off the bikes and headed inside to get some coffee and warm up. Standing outside of this place was a Moonie selling flowers. I never see Moonies anymore, but there were a lot of them around then.
He tried to sell us each a flower by getting between us and the door. We both growled, pushed him out of the way and kept heading towards the coffee, figuring we needed that more than a damn flower.
We hung out inside warming up, till the clerk started getting nervous. We then went outside and Damn, that Asshole Moonie, tried to sell us a flower AGAIN.
Knowing Steve like I do, when he put on his Game Face and told that guy, "You bother Me one more time about those Flowers, I'm gonna Fuck You up" - I knew what was coming.
Sure enough. Not 2 minutes later, Moonie Boy came back hitting us up to buy a flower. Steve and I both had a coffee in one hand and a doughnut in the other. Steve calmly put the doughnut in his mouth and .............................. WHAM!! He blasted Moonie Boy right in the chops.
Flowers, teeth and Moonie Boy flyin' everywhere. Damn, it hurt me just seeing him land 4-5 feet from where he was standing. He was just laying there, spread eagle on the ground. Out like a light. Flowers all over him. Bleeding. It was beautiful.
Then the Cop, who had been parked in the alley walked up. SHIT.
He looked at Moonie Boy. He looked at us.
Back at Moonie Boy. Back at us.
Nobody said a word for what seemed like a loooooong time. The Cop just kept looking back and forth between us and what was rapidly becoming, in my mind, an Abstract Art exhibit titled - "Moonie Boy with Bloody Flowers in the Rain".
Neither Steve or I wanted to say a damn word. We just stood there holding our breath. I was thinking to myself, "Well at least it'll be warmer in jail than where we've been tonight".
Finally, the Cop says to Steve - "I told him not to bother you two". And he calmly walked back to his car and called for EMS to come pick up the "Art Exhibit" still bleeding in the parking lot.
When I was a kid I worked at a Texaco station in Crown Point, Indiana. That's the county seat and the site of the Lake County Jail from which Dillinger made his famous escape.
Lillian Holley was the Sheriff at the time of the escape. Here she is in a picture with Dillinger.
Miss Holley, was still alive back when I was a kid pumping gas and she drove a Buick (if memory serves me correctly) and filled it up at the Texaco station where I worked.
I had no clue who she was. One of the older guys told me the story of how she had been the Sheriff when John Dillinger escaped & I thought that was pretty cool. She was just a nice old lady as far as I knew and I did the usual, fill 'er up, wash the windows, check the oil and ask her if she "Saved Stamps like all the other old women who came in.
I'd been putting gas in her car for a couple of years and talked to her every time I'd filled her up, so I wasn't shy about asking her about the Dillinger story.
She told me that the whole "Wooden gun. Bar of Soap Gun, etc" was bullshit. (Not her words. She was very polite and proper to me.)
Her story was that someone smuggled in a pistol and assisted with the escape.
She also said that "Someday, somebody is gonna make a lot of money selling that wooden gun".
It's been about 40 years since she told me that, but damn if she didn't get it right.
Years later, after they had built a new jail, the old jail downtown was sold to a guy who started development on the buildings and I worked on the crew. I found 2 of these signs tucked in a corner- I gave the Boss 1 and stashed 1 for myself.
My Bestest Buddy Steve & I worked as laborers when they tore the boilers out of the place. There were 3 big boilers in the boiler house and there was one guy, Big Harry, who was cutting them up with a torch and Steve & I would haul the pieces out and toss 'em in the dumpster. There's 2 or 3 layers of steel in those boilers and a blanket of asbestos between each one. Remember, this was a long time ago. Nobody wore a mask. There was so much asbestos floating around in the air it looked like we were working in a snow storm. We both coughed & sneezed up big hunks of fibrous shit for weeks. Never thought much about it back then.
Bestest buddy Steve & Big Harry have both died of lung cancer since then.
Coincidence? Damn if I know, but I try not to think about it too much.
Edit Note 12-15-09. This is not a GrumpyUnk original drawing. One of the comments was about the sacrilegious nature of this drawing. I agree. This is the guy who did the artwork
Like they say on TV, I report. You decide.
Gratuitous Picture for Monday Night- Yep, the Obama art is getting goofier.
OK, Update Time From The Bunker........... Been gone for a few days. Went up North to see my Bestest Buddy Steve. Probably said my last goodbye to him when I left yesterday afternoon. He's goin' fast.
Very strange part is, his tumors are all shrunk down to nothing. But he's developed Paraneoplastic cerabellum Degeneration Syndrome. I'd never heard of this shit before, but after doing some research last night, it seems that this isn't all that uncommon for people with certain types of cancer to get.
Basically, his brain's gone now. Pretty much in a Coma like state and it won't be to long before my friend leaves this world.
If there is anything that can be considered "Good" in all this, it's that basically, He's been pain free. Given what I've seen in most patients with his kind of cancer, being pain free and now unaware of what's going on around him, may indeed be a blessing. It doesn't help his wife and kids any, except on an intellectual level I guess. But it's probably better for Steve.
Rest in Peace, My Friend ................ My Bestest Buddy, Steve left this world at 2am this morning.
Even though there was no way he coulda' planned it, one has to wonder how he managed to arrange for the blizzard that's going on up in his area right now. He always had a flair for the dramatic.
He was only 51. Makes you wonder sometimes how G-d decides these kinda things.
Hand Update ............. Was supposed to go see the Surgeon this morning for the first after surgery checkup on the hand. Unfortunately, Mother Nature decided it was a good time to act like it's Winter and have a big storm. Damn you, Al Gore!!!!
Anyway, the Doc was gonna change the bandages and look things over. He wasn't gonna be happy with me either. I tore some of the stitches out the other day helping my Buddy Steve Saturday Night.
Yeah, that shit hurt. Gotta big old gapper in the palm now, and that'll take longer to heal. That's the biggest downside. It looks somewhat better than the picture here since I washed it up but it's pretty nasty looking.
Good news? Really doesn't hurt all that much. OK, that's all the news that's fit to gross you out.
Weather was still crappy at the start, but cleared up about he time I got back into TN. I continued taking 2 laners down to Knoxville. Traffic sucked and the road work made it suckier. Thankfully it didn't last long and I was headed down US 129.
The entire area down that way is full of good places to ride.
Deals Gap is kinda special. 318 turns in an 11 mile stretch!!! My Bestest Buddy, Steve, has been trying to get me down there for a long time. But seeing as I didn't have a bike for a long time, it seemed kinda stupid for me to go. I shoulda had a bike and went. The "Tail of the Dragon" as it's called is everything it's billed as. A very cool, highly technical road that will bite you in the ass if you screw up. People get in over their heads every weekend and crash. Being the pussy I am, I took it easy and didn't ride all to aggressively. I kept an eye out in the mirrors for the really fast guys and waved them by when it was clear.
The above shot is the gas station at the NC end of the Gap. I lost the pics taken at the TN end somehow. Bummer. I spent about an 1/2 hour at the TN end when I got there just scoping out the bikes. Lots of cool stuff. Some of these guys are waaaaaaaaaay serious riders. Some are like me, marginal. Some of the marginal guys THINK they can ride really fast and run wide over the double yellow and make shit dangerous for everyone. I took it easy and still had a great ride, while being safe for everyone.
Hung out at the NC end at the gas station for a little while and met some nice folks. DynoDan is a guy who posts on the Concours owners forum and he spent a few minutes giving me a few routes to ride. Nice guy and Thanks!!
Rode all afternoon around the area and found a nice place to crap out for the night. I will definitely be back at the Gap next Spring.
