Ames, 1951 - 2016
Steve Ames, beloved husband, son, relative, and one-of-a-kind character passed away to his next adventure on October 25, 2016. Steve struggled with prostate cancer for 15 years. During that time, he fought hard to live and lived every day fully, with a focus on fun. He is survived by his wife of 29 years, Michelle, mother Betty, step-mother, mother and father-in-law, a myriad of
siblings, aunts, uncles by marriage, cousins, and close friends who were fortunate to experience all that he was. And Steve was a nearly normal person, ...yet infected with a hilarious genius. He lived like Hunter Thompson: fully uninhibited, prone to frequent acts of comic absurdity, and generally unconcerned with what other people thought. Steve lived his life “his way,” and that was fine. He was, all in one person, intelligent, calm, kind, loyal, sentimental, wild, zany, creative, and dangerously driven to be unique. Steve was born in Los Angeles, California, on May 28, 1951, the only child of Betty Torrey and Ken Ames. He was raised in Southern California and became a product of its energy and social madness. In 1979, Steve received a BS degree in Geology from Cal State Fullerton, or “Fool-a-Round,”as Steve would call it. For the next 39 years, he spread his own brand of madness through life. He worked at various jobs, including as an engineering consultant. As a real SoCal native, Steve relished the most unique underground haunts of LA and Orange Counties, was a lover of professional sports, and a BIG LA Dodger fan! He loved hockey too; was a LA Kings fan, who even rooted for the Anaheim Ducks once they entered the league. In 1987, Steve married Michelle, another amazingly unique person. They were made for one another. Steve and Michelle were a wild and extravagant sight on the SoCal scene. A deliciously uncommon party pair, electric and gregarious, who collected friends everywhere they went. They could be seen in restaurants and at crazy parties in their most inspired apparel: Michelle with rainbow hair, in a vintage dress and boa; Steve with a long purple goatee, tall and grand, in a formal white suit. Juan and Evita Peron never looked so good together. At times, it was an event just to be in their presence. And that was a lot of the time. In 1994, Steve and Michelle moved to Veneta, Oregon, where Steve would retire and assume the role of crazy country squire; a city boy reborn in the country. People were always welcome to visit their secluded forest home and stay as long as the fun lasted. Steve would sometimes greet visitors at the gate, wearing nothing but a bathrobe and cowboy boots. Many an unforgettable time was had out there in the woods. They brought new meaning to the term “wildlife refuge.” Steve and Michelle inspired outrageous events elsewhere too: in Canada, France, LA, San Francisco, and in Las Vegas, renewing their vows with Elvis. With them, the party never stopped. And when they didn't travel, they called old friends by phone, late at night, after “cocktails.” The “Ames Midnight Liquor Call” was infamous, but usually welcome. We all wished we were having as much fun in life as they were. In the end, for those of us who knew Steve well and loved him best, the Steve Ames experience was about the happiness we can all achieve through love and creative fun, if we just open up and let it happen. Possibly Steve’s most sage advice was “Never let fear or common sense stand in the way of having a good time.” When you really think about it, those are words to live by. Steve lived out his final days at his home in the woods, an ideal place of reflection and release. He was surrounded by those who loved him for exactly who he was. No one really knows where the souls of truly free and inspired spirits like Steve go after life is over. But, wherever that may be, he’s there now, inspiring us by his example to live our lives freely and fully, as we see fit, no matter what other people may think. Good night sweet demented prince. Our lives are so much less without you.
