Thank you for your attendance and participation on Saturday night, September 14th.   

The Celebration of Steve's Life was joyous with conversation, stories, eloquent speakers, displays indoors and outdoors, music, videos, food and drink.   There are so many people to thank for this beautiful event.   Many loving thank you's to you ...  

The Museum of Glass became the perfect venue for celebrating Steve.   John Ferguson made it all happen seamlessly.   Gary, Cory and I knew immediately while visiting with John at the museum that this was the place.   Steve, the extraordinary trade show producer, must have been giving us all a thumbs up. 

Sue and Bob Harold with a great contribution from Batman created and published an outstanding little book -- Steve Ready   An Anthology and Photographic Memories -- that was on display.  A book of Steve's many short stories and photos that will be a treasure for us.   If you go online to Blurb and search for Steve Ready, you can find and copy the contents of this book, I believe.   Please contact Batman (Jim Sartorio) with any questions.   His contact information is at the top of this blog page.

The following is a poem written and read by Harley Phillips.  I thought you might enjoy reading it.   Harley and Steve enjoyed cross country motorcycle rides together.   This is a reflection from an experience on one of the rides.

"The Saga of the Southern Greens"

These greens are a legend
Rumored best in the South,
Folks come from all over
To let 'em melt in their mouth.

Steve HAD to try them
Would use any means,
Ride hundreds of miles to get to these greens.

Arrived ten minutes after close
What a story he told
Standing quite humble but speaking so bold.

Taking pity on us,
The lady was kind.
"You can eat in the kitchen
if you really don't mind.

We've got lots left over
So I'm glad you came by."
Then two huge plates of greens
Put a grin in Steve's eye.

Soon vinegar and spices
Filled the room with their smell
Steve's first bite was tricky
But he handled it well.

With fork in hand
And juice on his chin
He looked over at me
And his eyes grew thin.

Out came the greens
Followed by a wheeze.
Steve said it straight out,
"I CAN NOT eat these!!"

Steve, what will you do
With all of those greens
When the lady returns
To see if they fulfilled your dreams?

The deer in the headlights
Had nothing on Steve
He started hatching a plan
That would allow us to leave.

His new riding coat
Had pockets with a flap.
He stuffed them with greens
And spilled a few in his lap.

You can't eat that fast, Steve,
We haven't been here that long.
When she checks back on us,
She'll know something's wrong.

"Oh, Shit! You're right!
It looks like I'm screwed."
Then in went his hand
And out came the food.

Now his new plan worked well
For with each bite I took
His riding coat pocket
Took on a new look.

He was so proud
And yet he was meek.
Both plates were empty
And his pockets didn't leak.

He gave all kinds of thanks
And appreciation galore.
Then the nice lady owner
Escorted us out the door.

"I love your motocycles,"
She said with a coo.
"I've never ridden on one,
Though I"ve always wanted to."

You know what he did -
Steve just couldn't resist,
"Let us give you a ride,
Please, ma'am, I insist."

Oh, No! He remembered,
A rider holds onto your waist
Which had pocketful of greens!
His plan changed with haste.

"Harley's bike is more comfortable,"
He began a long lie,
"He'll be glad to take you.
I'll be glad to stand by."

What could I do?
My friend's in a bind!
I put down the pegs
And she crawled on behind.

I let out the clutch
And she waved Steve good-bye.
'twas then I saw the dumpster
Reflected in his eye.

When we rolled back in the lot
There ole Steve sat,
A smile on his face
And his pockets were flat.

That's the Southern Greens Saga
And if my memory serves me well
It took the coat seven weeks
To get rid of the smell.