A good man is gone

Charles Scappaticci scapco at ecentral.com
Thu Feb 18 10:14:58 PST 2010

My friend Brad's dad just passed away Tuesday.  Brad's dad Buster was
a true gentleman who spent his life doing what he loved, riding
motorcycles.  I had the pleasure of knowing Buster and rode with him a
couple of times, including the summer I was nailed by a drunk on a
Harley.  They don't make many like Buster any more.  Below is a
tribute to Buster written by his son that sums up his life very
nicely.  Godspeed Buster.

The Last Ride (an ode to my Dad):

My Father loved all things two-wheeled on road or trail
He’d jump at any given chance to take a ride without fail

Riding the Oregon hills, or screaming down the So-Cal coast
As long as he was flying on two wheels he thought it the most

Rode the great BSA’s, Norton’s, and Triumph’s back in the day
Willingly switched to Honda and BMW just to keep Lucas at bay

He could fix anything with tape, vice-grips, and some bailing wire
To keep the ride going from daybreak until we wore out the tires

Dirt biking as a kid brought us together in a special unique bond
The light of which never dimmed even as careers and time rambled on

Years took us down different paths and roads than maybe we expected
Our love of riding we always came back to and was something respected

We had talked and dreamed of long scenic rides all over this great land
Only one two-week trip a few years back to the Southwest came as planned

I treasure that trip like no other even though other reasons got me out
On trips abroad to amazing places that I had as a kid dreamed about

Our time on two-wheels can be short trips or adventures quite long
Soul searching solo trips or shorter group outings high-speeding along

Life is a journey for each to find our own way to shave a bit off our lap times
Although we don’t always choose to follow the fastest or most efficient lines

Be it dirt, street, hill-climb, racing, or trials that speeds up your heart
Remember the lessons learned on two-wheels work no matter the part

He was a kind, loving, happy, and caring man that kept to his sworn word
Never boastful, always helping others, wouldn’t hurt even so much as a bird

He could get mad over a small thing, erupt so big you’d think it was the end
Then with a twinkle in his blue eyes he’d be calm and smile and all would amend

He taught me to look beneath the pond’s surface to see what is actually real
People are what matter and doing right for the right reason is the best deal

My Dad was my best friend, my team mate, and my two-wheel coach
Through him riding became a passion that I treasure beyond all reproach

He’s gone on down that long silent road and around the last sweeping bend
His tail light has flickered and left me at the crossroads of this
bittersweet end

I will always remember him every time I throw a leg over a bike
His ready smile and Great Spirit filled with two-wheeled delight

He told me the worst day riding is better than the best day at work
This I know to be so true and when I forget it I feel like a sad jerk

My dad knew the real answers to the riddles of modern everyday life
It wasn’t a big house, promotions, possessions, or winning the fight

The simple pleasures of a motorcycle rolling down a nice twisty road
Could fix the worst day, the worst mood, or even feeling a wee bit old

I like to think that up in Heaven he’s riding around really fast and quick
On his beloved Gold Star, a Vincent, or maybe a bright red Ducati that’s trick

The road never ends, there are no limits, no break downs; he never
runs out of gas
Endlessly flying through chicanes, sweepers, hills, and long straights
faster than fast.

I can see the huge smile on his face as he flies on and on with a
sure, rapid pace
Laughing out loud for joy, no worries ever, as he endlessly runs his
own great race

Of this vision of Heaven some will doubt but others will know what I mean
My Dad will be at peace in his well-deserved reward with such a grand theme


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