Eulogy for Friend :: Eulogies Eulogy

plaudit for FriendMy name is Deborah, and Im one of Rons many friends. Karen asked me to contend about Ron from a bikers express of view. At many memorial services, eulogies are sort of like fish stories. Mean people are all at once remembered as good-natured, self-centered people as generous, sinners as saints. Positive traits are exaggerated, negative ones swept under the rug.But today, its not necessary to protract the truth. With Ron, what you adage was what you got. He refused to play games with people, and he was adamant that he didnt bear on time for nonsense like politics and petty disputes. What he DID have time for was people. He was amazingly attuned to early(a) peoples feelings. In my case, Ron would invariably notice if I started getting tired and quiet while we were riding. He noticed before my husband of 30 years didbefore I did myselfand would invariably stroll over with a handful of Tootsie Roll Pops and pink undulate gum to give me a abrasion shot. Onc e he discovered that I shared his enthusiasm over Tootsie Roll Pops, he always do sure to keep a deep enough stash to cover me on trips. He was attuned in other ways as well. On crowd rides, I usually take the tailgunner gravel at the end of the pack, which means that I sometimes have to babysit unskilled riders who constantly speed up and retard down, or who fall approve so far that the rest of the group vanishes from sight. I usually dont mind, but now and then when psyche who should know better rides like that, it drives me crazy. Ron would always sense when I was getting frustrated, and at the next stop hed say, Why dont I ride at the back for a while and give you a break? He didnt make a big consume out of it, but he helped keep rides fun for many of us. Ron was master of a thousand small kindnesses.He also took setbacks in stride, small and larger-than-life ones alike. One time we were heading southwestward toward Austin, and Ron and Karen were riding in front of me . Suddenly there was a small and colorful explosion on the bridle-path behind their bike. I looked down and saw pills--lots of little pills--bouncing in every direction. Then two more explosions occurred, and this time I saw that the bottles were coming from their T-bag.Eulogy for Friend Eulogies EulogyEulogy for FriendMy name is Deborah, and Im one of Rons many friends. Karen asked me to share about Ron from a bikers point of view. At many memorial services, eulogies are sort of like fish stories. Mean people are suddenly remembered as good-natured, self-centered people as generous, sinners as saints. Positive traits are exaggerated, negative ones swept under the rug.But today, its not necessary to stretch the truth. With Ron, what you saw was what you got. He refused to play games with people, and he was adamant that he didnt have time for nonsense like politics and petty disputes. What he DID have time for was people. He was amazingly attuned to other peoples feelings. In my case, Ron would always notice if I started getting tired and quiet while we were riding. He noticed before my husband of 30 years didbefore I did myselfand would invariably stroll over with a handful of Tootsie Roll Pops and pink bubble gum to give me a sugar shot. Once he discovered that I shared his enthusiasm over Tootsie Roll Pops, he always made sure to keep a big enough stash to cover me on trips. He was attuned in other ways as well. On group rides, I usually take the tailgunner position at the end of the pack, which means that I sometimes have to babysit unskilled riders who constantly speed up and slow down, or who fall back so far that the rest of the group vanishes from sight. I usually dont mind, but now and then when somebody who should know better rides like that, it drives me crazy. Ron would always sense when I was getting frustrated, and at the next stop hed say, Why dont I ride at the back for a while and give you a break? He didnt make a big deal out of it, bu t he helped keep rides fun for many of us. Ron was master of a thousand small kindnesses.He also took setbacks in stride, small and large ones alike. One time we were heading south toward Austin, and Ron and Karen were riding in front of me. Suddenly there was a small and colorful explosion on the road behind their bike. I looked down and saw pills--lots of little pills--bouncing in every direction. Then two more explosions occurred, and this time I saw that the bottles were coming from their T-bag.