A good man is gone

mrgilmore at aol.com mrgilmore at aol.com
Fri Feb 19 08:16:42 PST 2010

Wow.  That is so great.  I was really touch and had to choke back that cry feeling.  Y'see, it was also my long past dad who intro'd me to motorcycling way back when I was but 14.
Great poem Brad.  My best to you moving forward.
Ron Jordan
Altadena, CA

-----Original Message-----
From: Charles Scappaticci <scapco at ecentral.com>
To: Kawasaki GPZ1100 Discussion <gpzlist at micapeak.com>; Steve Watt <stevwatt at idx.com.au>
Sent: Thu, Feb 18, 2010 10:14 am
Subject: A good man is gone

My friend Brad's dad just passed away Tuesday.  Brad's dad Buster was
 true gentleman who spent his life doing what he loved, riding
otorcycles.  I had the pleasure of knowing Buster and rode with him a
ouple of times, including the summer I was nailed by a drunk on a
arley.  They don't make many like Buster any more.  Below is a
ribute to Buster written by his son that sums up his life very
icely.  Godspeed Buster.
The Last Ride (an ode to my Dad):
My Father loved all things two-wheeled on road or trail
e’d jump at any given chance to take a ride without fail
Riding the Oregon hills, or screaming down the So-Cal coast
s 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
illingly switched to Honda and BMW just to keep Lucas at bay
He could fix anything with tape, vice-grips, and some bailing wire
o 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
he light of which never dimmed even as careers and time rambled on
Years took us down different paths and roads than maybe we expected
ur 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
nly 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
n 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
oul 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
lthough 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
emember 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
ever 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
hen 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
eople 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
hrough 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
is tail light has flickered and left me at the crossroads of this
ittersweet end
I will always remember him every time I throw a leg over a bike
is 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
his 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
t wasn’t a big house, promotions, possessions, or winning the fight
The simple pleasures of a motorcycle rolling down a nice twisty road
ould 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
n 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
uns out of gas
ndlessly flying through chicanes, sweepers, hills, and long straights
aster than fast.
I can see the huge smile on his face as he flies on and on with a
ure, rapid pace
aughing out loud for joy, no worries ever, as he endlessly runs his
wn great race
Of this vision of Heaven some will doubt but others will know what I mean
y Dad will be at peace in his well-deserved reward with such a grand theme

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