Wednesday, March 4, 2009

In Memory of Steven Jules Kleppie

I met Steve at Harry's Bar in Pismo Beach in March 1982..He was sitting on the stage playing an old Dobro slide guitar for drinks and because he love to play..Loner, searcher and a dreamer we had a lot in common. Neither one of us were doing much, work was slow that years so when Steve asked if I wanted to go to Martinez and party I couldn't say no.

Meet his clan a couple of day's later..His dad was a big old Scotsman and his mom was fireball tiny black lady..didn't have much as far as stuff but they all shared a love for life..Dad was a nomad rider..Knuckleheads, he had about fifteen of them..he wasn't a collector he used them for parts..he rode alone and like he had the devil by the tail..it was the start of a great spring for me.

Now Steve stood about 6'4"..wild ass red hair and muttonchops, he was a drinking fool and loved all mind altering substances..any order they came in worked for him..He rode a Knuckle,,wasn't much of a wrench but was hell on wheels with baling wire a duct tape..he also had that luck,,shit didn't break..He loved music, guitars, guns and bikes..the lady's too.

Five months we worked early and partied late..just doing enough to keep the ice chest full of cheap beer and what ever else we could find..we rode, we spent hours with Taco listening to old biker stories..we had a lifetime of adventure packed in to a few hours..

The dog food lady in Berkley, two hit's of window pane acid and the Callacut tunnel, Leaving the renaissance fair in Agoura Hills driving while blind..the shaky lady with a gun..Angels Camp, 81's and were paying you to play..it's 4 am. Backstage with the Greatfull Dead for a weekend..damn Jerry you were an asshole..

Life happens and we move on..I found love and you got a real job brother..Neither one last long but we had to try..meet up a few times in odd places..remember the pheasants..I guess I could say it was our version of the last supper..I got the email from Carrie this morning..life in the fast lane is what she had carved on your stone..I'm stopping by in the morning to say goodbye..Love ya Brother..

8 comments:

mq01 said...

im so sorry for your loss rat. he'll remain with us as long as you cherish those memories and keep 'em close to your heart. rest in peace steve.

click said...

I've seen way too many pass - I'm still around to ride - life is good

Pug said...

Damm sorry for your loss of a great Friend , allways hold the good days in yer heart , your friend is now Riding free

ratone said...

I had tears running my face when I finished writing this..Not for Steve, hell I'm amazed it didn't happen years ago..but for me and my selfishness..when I stopped the party lifestyle I found myself avoiding true friends to not put myself in an uncomfortable position, well life can be an uncomfortable position..I lost years of pure friendship for my own gain..It was my lost that hurt..Sorry Bro..

click said...

saying goodbye is the hardest part - when we buried my mother I could've used the shoulder all others had - I gave that up to give my kid "a life" - I made the right choice

atomicbomb said...

RIP Steven



You will live in our hearts through the words of your brother, RatOne. I will ride my shovelhead through Berkeley, up throught Caldecott Tunnel, and reach through time to hear the echos of your laughter. Your spirit may ride with me and though we never met before you moved on, may we share some laughter in the wind today.


==========================


Ilka Blade O' Grass Keps Its Ain Drap O' Dew



by James Ballantine



Confide ye aye in Providence, for Providence is kind,

And hear ye a' life's changes wi' a calm and tranquil mind.

Tho' press'd and hemm'd on every side, hae fath an ye'l win through,

For ilka blad o' grass keps its ain drap o' dew.



Gin reft frae friends, or cross'd in love, as whiles nae doubt ye've been,

Grief lies deep hidden in your heart, or tears flow frae your een;

Believe it for the best, an' trow there's gude in store for you.

For ilka glade o' grass keps its ain drap o' dew.



In lang lang days o' simmer, when the clear an' cloudless sky

Refuses ae wee drap o' rain to nature parch'd and dry,

The genial night wi' balmy breath gars verdure spring anew,

An' ilka blade o' grass keps its ain drap o' dew



So lest 'mid Fortune's sunshine we should feel owre proud an' hie,

An' in our pride forget to wipe the tear frae poortith's e'e;

Some wee dark clouds o' sorrow come, we ken na whence or how,

But ilka blade o' grass keps its ain drap o' dew.

'
---------------------------

Frugal Scottish brothers Tam and Jock were in business together. Jock could not get the books to balance and they came up a mere five pounds short in the accounting. Jock turned to Tam and asked "Are ye keep in mistress on the side?"

-------------------------

ld Tam, who had lost all his teeth, had a visit from the minister who noted that Tam had a bowl of almonds. "My brother gave me those, but I don't want them, you can have them" said Old Tam. The minister tucked into them and the said "That was a funny present to give a man with no teeth." To which Old Tam replied "Not really, they had chocolate on them..."


---------

At an auction in Glasgow a wealthy American announced that he had lost his wallet containing £10,000 and would give a reward of £100 to the person who found it.
From the back of the hall a Scottish voice shouted, "I'll give £150!"

---------

Jock was out working the field when a barnstormer landed.
"I'll give you an airplane ride for £5," said the pilot.
"Sorry, cannae afford it," replied Jock.
"Tell you what," said the pilot, "I'll give you and your wife a free ride if you promise not to yell. Otherwise it'll be £10."
So up they went and the pilot rolled, looped, stalled and did all he could to scare Jock. Nothing worked and the defeated pilot finally landed the plane. Turning around to the rear seat he said, "Gotta hand it to you. For country folk you sure are brave!"
"Aye," said Jock "But ye nearly had me there when the wife fell oot!"

mq01 said...

amen atomicbomb, amen

ratone said...

Thank you Bomb..When you ride through Berkley if you stop at the edge of Peoples park..you might hear an old slide dobro and a personal version of Dead Flowers or the Roadhouse Blues..That be Steve..living life to the fullest and doing what he loved..